Mass Foundations: A New Day
by Nord Ronnoc
Summary: Eric Grimes, a high school graduate, had somehow transported to the Mass Effect universe while on vacation. The events of the franchise have yet to occur, and he would be helpless to alter them as the next person. Seeing no other choice, he would have to find a way to survive through Saren's incursion, the Collector abductions, and the Reaper War—or die while doing something useful
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

_UPDATE 1/14/17: This was one story 4Ferelden and I wanted to write, inspired by the likes of Mass Vexations by Herr Wozzeck and Masses to Masses by iNf3ctioNz. But there was something I've noticed for both series, at least early on: as much as they were based on themselves, they explain little of their backstories as their stories go along. I didn't believe this made good storytelling._

 _The fic went through multiple incarnations over the years. Originally, it started out at a Boston airport and Eric was 22 years old, already studying quantum mechanics at MIT, and his brother, Alphonse (now Alfonso_ ) _, was the youngest. We had a bit of difficulty moving his scene to the next, so someone else suggested we should start this out in Bangkok. We both agreed this was for the best._

 _The older version of Eric went on for a few chapters before I decided to go for a do-over. I wasn't happy with the direction I was originally taking this fic._

* * *

 **Mass Foundations: A New Day**

 **Chapter One: Arrival**

 _Year: 2014  
Location: Bangkok, Thailand_

The harsh June sun settled over Bangkok like a wet blanket. Even as the sun set, a never-ending stream of taxis, delivery trucks, motorcycles, and bikes filled the streets. A gray Nissan SUV passed over a speed bump and into the sea of cars before it. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but not to one person riding in the car.

Eric Grimes turned 19 years old days after graduating from high school. It had been weeks since then. Thin for his small height, he had short, jet black hair, his skin a warm beige. His little face had a thin jaw, a thick nose, and small hazel eyes. Because of the weather outside, he wore a white-collared t-shirt and a pair of black shorts and brown sandals.

Eric sat quietly, squeezing into the back seat between his brother and sister. He looked on, fascinated by the chaos ruling Thailand's highways and byways. Compared to his hometown Boston—known for its outdated streets and aggressive drivers—the traffic here was _insane_.

He thought about going to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He wasn't sure on choosing which classes to take at first, but his Physics teacher solved that problem. His teacher claimed if calculus was the language of God, then quantum mechanics was His canvas. Eric was skeptical of the idea, but it convinced him to take the course once he signed up at MIT. After all, he excelled in math and science, including physics. Quantum mechanics shouldn't be a problem.

"Eric? Mijo? Are you okay?" His mother, Felicia, asked from the driver's seat as their car stopped at a traffic light. She gazed her eyes at the mirror, concern shown on her face. A 46-year-old woman with a thin jawline, her brown eyes matched her tawny complexion. She wore a white t-shirt with a picture of a pink flower on it and dull, yellow shorts.

Eric looked back at his mother. She intended for most of the family to spend a week here and visit Angkor Wat at some point. When she and his sister told him they were going on a vacation over there not long after his graduation, he was looking forward to visiting the temple. He hoped the civil unrest wouldn't deter the holiday.

"Yeah. I'm all right, Mamá. Thanks," he answered. His mother continued driving when the stoplight turned green.

Eric looked at a window to his right past his 24-year-old sister, Garcia, to a tall obelisk among the traffic. She told him the obelisk was the Victory Monument, built back in 1941. The statues at the bottom of the obelisk represented each of Thailand's government: the army, the navy, its air force, its police force, and its parliament.

"Sure you are," his brother, Alfonso, replied with a sarcastic tone. So his brother had paid attention. Lately, Alfonso had his nose buried in his Nintendo 3DS with the new games he got for Christmas.

Alfonso was the spitting image of their father at 22 years old, with his medium height, thin nose, and hazel eyes. The only differences were his long, black hair and a large scar on his thick chin he got from a nasty fight back in high school. He wore a game-inspired t-shirt and black shorts, along with a pair of white sneakers.

"I'm fine, Al. Just drop it, okay?" Eric insisted. Alfonso scoffed and shook his head but didn't reply.

Their mother pulled up at the hotel and parked the SUV. The hotel was tall and oval-shaped, with another building tucked next to it.

"Should we get out and meet up with Grandma and Grandpa, Mamá?" Garcia adjusted her dark, braided ponytail. She had beige skin, like Eric, and had her mother's eyes. Unlike either of them, Garcia had a diamond-shaped face and a thin but long nose. She wore a bright, striped tank top and navy blue shorts.

"They should be here any minute, Garcia." Her phone rang, and she picked it up. For a moment, Eric hoped it might be his father to check up on them. His father had changed since he spent multiple tours in Afghanistan as an intelligence analyst. He wanted to make sure his family was safe, even in peaceful times.

Eric looked over at his mother had hung up. The phone's screen showed his grandfather's number. Disappointed, he slumped back into his seat and sighed. His father was always busy as an IT manager, spending no time with his family. His father had changed in more ways than one.

"All right, we're moving out. Your grandparents got here in the taxi. They're waiting for us inside," their mother called out as she pocketed her phone.

"Great!" said Garcia, more than relieved.

The family got out of the SUV and grabbed their bags from the trunk. They walked on the plank, past the garden with the elephant statues and thin trees, and went inside. The wooden walls inside surrounding him and the black-and-white stripes tiles on the floor gave away a gorgeous environment.

It didn't take long for them to find his grandparents in the lobby. They sat on two of the chairs that surrounded a tall, thin plant, with two suitcases sitting by them.

Arturo, his grandfather, was a short haired, overweight man with a rather colorful Hawaiian t-shirt to go with his khaki cargo shorts. His face was round, having a thick nose, puffed lips, and beady brown eyes.

Sitting next to him was Eric's grandmother, Carol. Thin-faced with small brown eyes, she had a crooked nose and a thin mouth. Like his mother, her graying hair was wavy that reached down to her neck. She wore what anyone would have expected his or her grandmothers to wear: a light, fluffy sweater. Eric was sure she had lighter clothes in a suitcase. After all, she was considerate of herself and others.

"Felicia! It's so great to see you!" Eric's grandmother sat up and gave his mother a hearty hug.

"Good to see you too, Mamá," his mother smiled.

His grandmother hugged his brother, who looked like he would rather be somewhere else right now. His grandfather let out a toothy smile and patted Eric on the shoulder. "Hey hey, Eric! How was the trip? Found any cute guys on the way?"

Eric shook his head. "No, I didn't hook up with a complete stranger."

"So how are you holding up? You seemed pretty anxious back on the plane."

Eric stuttered and looked away from his grandfather. He wasn't used to opening up to other people. "I don't know. Probably because of MIT."

His grandfather smiled and gave Eric a sincere look. "Eric, listen. I know you had a rough time recently, but you did well. You're going to MIT, one of the best universities out there. I'm sure you're gonna do something incredible and amazing. I'm proud of you for that."

Eric exhaled as something warm grew inside him. "I—Thanks."

Satisfied with how it turned out, his grandfather turned his attention to his mother. "Have you checked us in?"

After consulting with the receptionist, they got their cards for their rooms. They settled for three rooms on the sixth floor. One was for his grandparents, one for his mother and sister, and the other for himself and his brother.

Eric and Alfonso entered their room and turned on the light inside. It was a large room with two king-sized beds, a TV in front, and a bathroom by the exit. A large window at one end showed the entire the city. It was just about nighttime outside.

Alfonso landed on the bed farthest away from the window after dropping his bag. He let out a relieved sigh. "Dios mío, this is _so_ comfy!"

Eric dropped his suitcase on an empty bed and opened it. He grabbed a toothbrush and a half-filled tube of toothpaste after going through his clothes, placing them in the sink in the bathroom. When he got out, his brother stuck his nose in his 3DS, back to playing A Link Between Worlds, a game he got from last Christmas.

"Hey, want something from the lobby?" Eric asked as he opened the door.

"Nah, I'm good. I ate on the plane. Wait…" Alfonso curled his lips. "I want a candy bar. Got your card?"

Eric nodded. Before he stepped out, Alfonso spoke again. "Hey, you're looking into quantum mechanics and stuff, right?"

He stopped. "Yeah. Why?"

Alfonso shrugged. "I dunno. I just find it funny that A Link between Worlds deals with parallel worlds. You're gonna deal with something similar in your class. The many-worlds theorem or something."

Eric cocked his eyebrows. Quantum mechanics, as far as he knew, covered a bunch of topics like transport processes, string theory, dynamics and waves, physical chemistry, nanomechanics, and biomaterials. "Where'd you get that idea? That's not the only game to use parallel universes as a plot point. It's not even the only Zelda game to have done that. Bioshock Infinite has it as well, with some of it based on _actual_ theories." Eric wasn't into video games as much as his brother, but he was in a mood for conversation.

Alfonso scoffed. "You thought I stick to Nintendo games, right? You'd rather I pick up Call of Duty or some shitty-ass port?"

"Oh c'mon, that's cheap!" Eric chuckled. "Speaking of ports, remember when Final Fantasy X was re-released as an HD port? Heard it was pretty good."

"Kinda weird you have to look for single-letter dictionaries. I remember that and the digging in the desert."

"So you don't mind finding anything useful? At all? One of the most advanced technologies we ever found from ancient civilization was an old battery jar."

Alfonso paused his game and gave Eric a dirty look. "You're such a downer, you know that? If they found abstract cave art and shadow theaters last year, do you think they can find more?"

"Anything's possible, I guess," Eric answered. "I'll ask the others and see if they want anything. See you later."

"See ya," Alfonso replied just as Eric left and shut the door.

* * *

The next two days were spent touring the city, seeing many monuments and trying out Thailand's delicacies. It was clear everyone enjoyed it except for Alfonso and the dancing shrimps one time. It didn't work out much for Eric as his thoughts drifted on about the relics he saw at a museum.

On Wednesday morning, they went off for Angkor Wat. For most of the four-hour trip, there was nothing but wetlands, even after passing through customs at the border to Cambodia with little difficulty.

They arrived at the temple, parking at the café nearby. Even standing on the wooden bridge that went over a waterway, the massive, ornate temple was magnificent. The structure had outlasted the empire that built it and countless wars. Some believed Angkor Wat should be called the Eighth Wonder of the World. Eric would be inclined to agree.

As they got out of the car, his grandmother basked in the fresh yet humid air. "Y'know, I'm half-expecting him to make a joke about those head-shooting monsters," Garcia remarked.

"And the deathtraps and stuff," Alfonso replied, kicking the dirt around his feet like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

Eric's mother turned to his grandmother. "Did it help, Mamá? I know the city has been rough on you."

Eric knew his grandmother was a chain smoker when she was around his age, causing many health problems. The worst was lung cancer that her doctor took care of at an early stage.

"Very much, Felicia. Thank you for asking," his grandmother smiled.

His grandfather stepped forward and gave his grandmother a gentle hug, cradling her. "We'll make it work. We can take pictures. Capture the moment. What'd you say?" His grandmother nodded, and his grandfather pulled his digital camera out of his fanny pack.

Eric and Alfonso walked over and stood by the bridge, with Alphonse resting on Eric's shoulders while Eric made a small smile. Alfonso was about to make a bunny ears gesture, but their grandfather told him off along with a dirty look from Eric. Garcia and their mother stood next to each other with smiles on their faces.

His grandparents were next. His mother took a picture of them in an embrace.

With that finished, they made their way to the temple by walking across the bridge. They entered inside, and Eric noticed how much more imposing it was up close. Many tourists climbed the stairs up to the smaller towers, his siblings among them.

On the walls of the passageway, its white paint had faded from centuries' worth of wear and tear, decorated with carvings that detailed large-scale battles like the Battle of Lanka, according to the information on his smartphone, and aspects of Hindu mythology. Eric was so entrenched by the level of detail and the stories of people and powerful deities long past unraveling before him that he lost track of time.

Somehow, he found himself in a small, circular room. It was empty save for a plain pillar mounted in the middle. The pillar reached up to his chest, crowned by a transparent orb on top. Eric thought it shone on its own. He looked up and found the ceiling had openings in it; some of them manmade while others resulted from erosion. Golden rays went through the holes, illuminating the otherwise dark room that reflected off the orb's surface.

"Huh. That's kinda cool," he commented.

The placement was convenient. At first, he couldn't help but compare this place to an item room in a Zelda or a Mega Man game. He sighed and lowered his head, ashamed of making that comparison to what seemed like a priceless artifact made long ago. He looked around and noticed markings on the floor. They were faint, arranged in concentric order, and paralleled perfectly with each opening carved in the ceiling. He guessed the room might have been an observatory that tracked lunar cycles.

He tried to leave but stopped and turned. Something bothered him about that orb. How did it survive for a long time? Were the glassblowers able to make something that perfectly round? And how did a piece of something as fragile as glass survived all these years inside, through several wars and a revolution? Could it had been replaced many times over the years?

Judging by the fresh smell of sandstone, this room could have been built recently. Not only that but the markings had numbers; in fact, they were equations, far too advanced for a time long ago.

He pulled out his phone, took pictures of the markings and the orb, and sent it to his sister. Knowing her, she spent her time studying Thailand and Cambodia. He waited for his phone to send the message only to find it didn't have a signal. He grunted in frustration and pocketed his phone. With nothing else to do, he walked closer, hoping to see what these equations were. Maybe he would find something, like an inscription the authorities could put up, that would elaborate on the orb's history.

Up close, the orb grew brighter, taking on a blue hue as if it reflected off the skyline. He looked back at it again, and he wanted to touch its cold and smooth surface, but he thought better of it. _No use in disrespecting whatever tradition it had_ , he thought. _I really should find Garcia and the others._

A hum vibrated in his teeth, but he didn't look back. He circled the room's perimeter before realizing there wasn't an exit. Somehow, he ended up here without a visible entry point of any time.

A wave of panic struck him as he pounded on the wall. It was useless, but he didn't know what else to go on. He fell off his feet and crawled to the wall behind him.

The entire room lit up so bright there wasn't even a trace of a shadow on the wall he faced. The small symbols in the stone seemed to glow on their own, but the illumination came from the orb. If he looked at it now, he could go blind or worse.

The hums and the vibrations reached fever pitch, and he couldn't hear anything, not even his own screams. He closed his eyes despite facing away from the source. He collapsed in pain as a jolt of electricity coursed through his body.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself floating in darkness. A wave of nausea hit him like a bag rocks, and a coppery tang burst in his mouth. Before he knew it, an invisible force whisked him away to a place that looked like a trippy and nightmarish 1960s commercial. It was a strange contortion of different shapes and forms. Colors merged into different shades. Even time itself seemed distorted to him.

Eventually, everything came together. At first, it was just a blur of shapes and dull colors before rays of light pierced through the water.

 _I'm_ _underwater…?_

He gasped for air, large bubbles leaving his mouth. Water traveled down his throat. With all his strength, he swam as fast as he could to the surface. From this distance, it looked to be so far away. He was running out of time; his vision began to fade out. He swam faster and faster, as far as his limbs could take him.

 _I don't want to die_ , his mind screamed as he began to lose the feeling in his legs from the water's frigid temperature. Just as his body was about to give up on the strain, he managed to reach to the surface. Gasping for air, a bright light greeted him. It wasn't over; he needed to find ground before he would drown.

Thankfully, it didn't take long to spot shore, but it was too far away for him to swim. He didn't know how he got here, but he had more important issues like keeping his head above the water.

"Someone should help him!" someone cried out.

A loud splash. Eric turned and saw someone swimming toward him. From his fading vision, he couldn't tell who that person was or what he or she looked like.

Just as the stranger reached out to him, he passed out from exhaustion.


	2. Chapter 2: Awakening

_UPDATE 1/14/17: 4Ferelden contributed a lot to the prologue and this chapter. I would like to give him credit for helping me and giving me ideas I wouldn't consider otherwise. My regret was that I didn't credit him soon enough. I haven't heard from him in a while and I worry for him. He was probably okay by all accounts, but I tend to worry about people I like._

 _UPDATE 2/6/17: I know I'm late on the update, but he emailed me not long ago. He's doing okay. Still living, still breathing as I like to say._

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Awakening**

"One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four…"

Something pressed heavily on Eric's chest. Air flowed back into his lungs after someone had performed CPR on him. His eyes fluttered open, meeting the light when he looked at the bright, cloudy sky. It was shaped oddly as if it had wrapped around the outside of a ring. Eric coughed and gasped, nauseous.

He refocused his vision to an object in his mouth. To his relief, a medical device pumped air into his lungs. He didn't want to consider the implications otherwise. With some difficulty from the pain in his chest, he turned his head to a woman kneeling next to him.

As his eyes adjusted, he stared at a feminine figure looking over him. She looked like she was in her twenties, having dark eyes, a rounded jaw, bronze skin, and a sharp nose, signs of Indian heritage. Her combed dark-brown hair had tied into a short ponytail.

"Hey, what's your name? Can you remember your name?" the woman asked.

"Eric Grimes," he croaked through the mask.

"Okay, Eric. Help will be on the way. Just lie still, and you'll be fine."

Eric was glad to follow that advice.

"Hey! Stay with me!" he heard the woman barked before he blacked out.

* * *

Eric found himself floating in darkness, disembodied and formless. He couldn't move like something was forcing him not to. There was a sharp ring to his ear, and a chill ran through his spine. At first, it was wetlands. He flew across the wetlands, speeding up in seconds.

The wetlands turned into a tropical forest, and Eric saw Angkor Wat. Instead of being smashed into the tower, he phased through the wall. Everything spiraled out of control. Sculptures deformed, and wall carvings became nothing but gibberish.

He couldn't help but find it all… off, impossible to be real. It was like everything was put through an oily-looking filter, but the lizard part of his brain told him: _Just go along for the ride!_

A wave of fear crept over him as he saw a small, transparent sphere resting on a plain pillar at the center of a small, circular room. Much to his amazement, everything was intact.

He saw his siblings. His brother was entranced by the sphere, his hand hovering over it, wondering he should touch it or not. His sister was studying the strange inscriptions on the floor and wall. Eric struggled to reach out and call out to them, but he couldn't speak. Alfonso's eyes widened in surprise as he made a run for the exit. Right as he squeezed through, the door had sealed off its own accord, crushing every bone in his body. There was a sickening snap, like breaking celery in two. There wasn't a trace of blood staining on the walls.

Alfonso's death was quick and painless, though that didn't help at all. His brother died in front of his sister, and all she could do was sob incoherently. She composed herself and climbed on the walls to escape. The pitch became so loud Eric couldn't hear anything while everything became blindingly bright.

Eric could not scream.

* * *

Eric's eyes shot wide open, blinking several times to clear his vision. He found himself laid down on a bed. The first thing he saw was the whitewashed ceiling, telling him he was in a hospital. He must've done something stupid to end up here, and he would receive a scolding from his mother, his grandparents, and even a harsher one from his father. He really wasn't looking forward to it.

The next thing he saw was a breathing mask over his mouth, the tube leading to something nearby. His old clothes were gone, replaced with gray, featureless pajamas.

 _It's a dream. Just a dream you had, Eric_ , he told himself. _It has to be a dream._

He removed the mask to think straight. The first thing he looked at was the cardiac monitor. What threw him off guard was the type of information displayed on the screen. Some of it he could recognize, both the others came off to him as indecipherable. He doesn't think it was like anything a doctor could use. He looked down at his right forearm to find a patch that relayed the same information, albeit in a streamlined fashion.

He turned around and he couldn't believe what he saw with wide eyes and a slack jaw. There was an indigo-skinned woman with scalp-crests for hair sitting on a chair nearby, her bored eyes fixed on an orange light enveloping her left forearm.

One thought played in repeat in his mind as he grasped his head: _This is not Mass Effect. This is just a doctor or maybe a nurse cosplaying as an asari with some nice special effects._

He looked through a window to the right of his bed. Outside, a river had filled a large lake, the blue water gleaming in the sunlight. On one side of a lake, there were a bunch of tall, white buildings, all connected and arranged with a simple yet elegant efficiency. They were far too futuristic and too expensive for any nation to maintain.

Glancing at the sidewalk below, he saw that many people were not human. Some had a lanky body structure with disproportionately huge eyes. Others were female but in various shades of blue with oddly shaped cranial structures instead of hair. He even noticed a pink jellyfish-like creature floating on the ground, or how its method of perambulation would be called.

As he tried to process all of this, a flying car passed by quickly in proud defiance of most engineers and physicists.

The monitor beeped rapidly, and the world began to spin around him. His breathing became rapid and shallow, and his heart banged wildly against his chest. He would've hit the floor if not for a gentle arm grabbing him. He saw it was the asari, a deeply concerned look now appearing on her face.

"I… I..." he uttered out. "What is…?"

The asari shushed him like how a mother would to her child. "You're in shock. It's just a natural reaction to almost drowning."

"Who saved me?"

"Natalie Clay. She brought you here yesterday. Now, just lay down on the bed and relax, okay?"

He nodded almost reflexively and laid back down on the hospital bed, and the dizziness slowly went away. In that time, he realized something: whatever happened, and he had no idea why, but he was now in the Mass Effect universe. And his family would have no idea of what really happened to him. A loved one missing was often harder to the family than death. In a twisted way, he wished he was good as dead to them, but he also wished the sphere had also brought his family.

Likely, his family would stay in the country for some time, desperately involved in searches and find leads that would go nowhere. With every scrap of new information, their spirits would soar and fall. Then they would go back home, disheartened but not discouraged by their lack of progress.

Conspiracy theorists would treat his disappearance as a mystery while the officials would treat it as a missing person case.

He dreaded one time when Alfonso attempted to rebel, being late home from school for several hours, his phone turned off. It wasn't easy for Alfonso, being the middle child of the family. It was like that but worse; his family's scars would never fully recover.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder what made that sphere bring him here. Was it a wormhole that sent him here?

His eyelids grew heavy and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

When he came back to his senses, he looked and saw there was still daylight outside. He turned to the asari once again, back on the chair. She turned the orange light off again and assumed a relieved expression as she gave Eric eye contact. "Glad to see you're awake."

Eric laid up on the bed and relaxed his shoulders. This was his first conversation here, but he didn't have to do any more talking. He could just make a run for it and find a way back home. However, he can't do this from a hospital bed. He had to know as much as possible if it would help him get back home.

"Where am I? What's today's date?"

The asari stared at him, confused. "You're at the Presidium Hospital on the Citadel. According to your species' calendar, today's June 20, 2182."

Eric gasped when he heard the date. He wasn't on Earth after all but on the Citadel, the iconic space station that served as a capital for the Council's member species. And he arrived here one year before the events of the first game.

"Are you all right? You had it rough earlier today."

"I'm better now. Thank you," he answered.

The asari nurse nodded. The metal door at the end of the room opened, and a woman in a blue-and-black uniform entered, her hair tied in a short, dark-brown ponytail. Almost immediately, Eric recognized her as the woman who saved his life.

"Hi, Natalie. I take it you're here to see the patient?" the asari asked.

"Yeah," the woman answered. "Dr. Oron gave me clearance. Mind if you leave us alone for a minute?"

"Of course." The nurse sat up and left, the door closing automatically behind her. Eric tensed at having to talk to someone from a fictional universe. However, she saved his life, no matter how awkward he felt about it. He had to wonder: did she exist in the games or was she a member of the faceless masses that Shepard ignored?

Eric looked down to his bed, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. "You're Natalie Clay, right?" The woman nodded. "Thanks for saving my life."

"Appreciate it. I'm just doing my job as a C-Sec officer," Natalie answered and sat down on a chair next to his bed. He noticed she was carrying a small, gray crate. "Let's move this forward. I got your stuff from HQ." The box made a quiet hissing sound when she opened it. He peeked and found his phone and wallet in it, with a stack of plastic cards next to the phone. He quickly grabbed his phone and pressed the power button on the side. It didn't turn on. It was beyond repair, soaked by the lake.

He sighed and gently put his phone back in the crate. One of his few connections to his old life was gone. He could not get the pictures he took off the sphere, not without extracting the SD card out and find something compatible with this universe's technology.

Natalie noticed this, her eyes dropping before she regained her professional composure. "I take it that's yours?" She handed Eric a card from the stack.

Eric looked at it and recognized it as his Massachusetts state ID card. It had everything he expected to be on it, including his signature, his ID number, his birth date (June 6, 1995), and a picture of him taken shortly before graduation. "Yeah, that's me. But I'm not—"

"The analysts back at HQ weren't sure what to make of you," Natalie stated. "Anyone not human wouldn't recognize what these things are and—" She swallowed as she stopped herself, having trouble find the words. "Can you tell me how you got here to the Presidium?" she asked, seeking a different approach. "It might clear things up."

Eric looked down at his bed again and pinched his brow. "I-I don't know. If I tell you the truth, you'll probably think I'm insane!"

Natalie leaned in and let out a gentle smile, something like his mother would to cheer him up. "Eric, I don't think you're insane. Hell, for all we know, you've traveled through time, came from some alternate universe, or something crazy."

"That—"

"I know you're stressed out right now. Take your time."

Natalie had a good point. None of this made sense to him. He wasn't sure how to put it so she could understand. He had to leave the part about Mass Effect being a game series back at home. No one would believe their entire existence and surroundings came from the imaginations of hundreds of developers, writers, and artists. The best way to put it was to think about the many-worlds theorem his brother mentioned. He had to accept that there were too many variables involved in his predicament.

"I…" he answered after long deliberation. "You were pretty close. I came from a parallel universe, nearly two centuries in the past."

Natalie's smile grew wider, proud she was correct. She let out a small chuckle. "Okay, then. Wow, that was weird. So how exactly did you get here to our universe?"

Eric shrugged. "I was on vacation with my mom, my brother and sister, and my grandparents. We spend a few days in Bangkok in Thailand, and we crossed borders to Angkor Wat. And then I was in a small room with this weird orb thing. I couldn't get out. It got so bright I had to cover my eyes. Next thing I knew, it brought me here. That's all I can remember."

He hoped the temple existed in this universe though it might have been destroyed in a war or demolished some time ago. Still, he had to hope for the best.

He continued. "I think that orb generated a wormhole. Know what they are?"

Natalie nodded. "It's like a tunnel with two ends, a shortcut in space-time. It requires exotic material with negative density, much like a mass relay using element zero to transport ships from one point to another in almost an instant."

"That's… wow, that's amazing," Eric chuckled, playing along.

"But that orb you described… was it reflective by any chance?"

"Eh, transparent, more like. Why'd you ask?"

"If it is, it might be Prothean. But a device that transports people through time and space and multiple universes? Sounds pretty far-fetched."

"Uh, the what now?" He knew what the Protheans were, but he figured he'll continue playing along.

Natalie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, right! The Protheans are an ancient race 50,000 years ago that created the mass relays, spanning the entire galaxy. Then one day, they all disappeared, leaving behind relics of their civilization. We have no idea how or why they disappeared; all we know that they just did."

Eric stayed quiet. He knew the truth behind the Protheans' disappearance. It was the Reapers, a race of synthetic-organic starships created by an artificial intelligence called the Catalyst. The Catalyst itself was created by an ancient race known as the Leviathans to address the conflicts between organic and synthetic beings. They built the mass relays and the Citadel and purged the Protheans and many other galactic civilizations before it.

"I'm not sure how the others would take your story. But for what it's worth, I believe you." Natalie sat up with the now-closed box and approached the door. It opened of its own accord as a green light disappeared from view.

"So what will happen next?" Eric asked with slight disbelief.

"I'll file a report about your case," Natalie answered. "After that, well… you just have to hope for the best. C-Sec will find a way to cover this up. Don't worry; you won't get locked up in a mental institute. Your complete lack of background documents is a problem, but not an impossible one. There are hundreds of colony and spacer kids, even duct rats that were never registered at birth. If you can apply, yours wouldn't be any different. You can make a good reputation."

Eric looked up at the C-Sec woman with genuine confusion. "What's a duct rat?" It had been several months since he had played any of the games.

"Duct rat," she repeated. "They're kids that wound up on the streets. They go into vents and try to find whatever means to live. Most of 'em die horribly. A few of them were never found." She stopped herself, horrified. "I'll spare you the details."

"I can imagine how bad it sounds," Eric replied. He wanted to change the subject. It was evident from Natalie's expression on her face and her tone of voice she did not want to dwell on it. His frown turned upside down to a smile, his expression hopeful. "Anyway, thanks for helping me."

"No problem, but don't hold your breath," Natalie replied. "It's a complicated process, and the bureaucracy seems to be getting worse with each year. I have to go back to HQ to file a progress report. Wish you luck."

"Bye."

With that, Natalie left the room, leaving Eric alone. All signs of joy faded from his face as he realized the challenges ahead had only just started. His eyes welled up with tears, streaming down his cheeks as he brought his knees up to his face.

"I want to go home!" Deep down, he knew it wouldn't be easy, let alone possible.

The in-game events took on a terrifying new meaning for him. He would be capable of dying like everyone else when the Reapers come in four years to begin their harvest. And that was before considering the invasions of the geth and the Collectors.

His sobbing intensified. For the first time in his life, he was alone. Instead of school, family, and friends, he was getting war, death, and destruction as his new future.

Slowly and unwillingly, Eric got off the bed and put on a pair of hospital-issued slippers nearby. Whatever would happen to him later, he can't cry his way out of it. With this in mind, he approached the sink on the counter across from the bed. When he touched the spout, the water ran. He washed his face thoroughly, cleaning the dried tears off his cheeks.

His stomach soon growled as he turned off the sink and dried his face with a fresh towel. By the lighting through the window, it was late in the morning.

The door opened, and the same nurse from before entered the room, carrying a tray of waffles and some scrambled eggs. By the plate was a cup of orange juice. His stomach growled again as the asari placed the food on the counter. Snatching the tray, he sat on the bad and ravenously ate through the meal. He savored the moment. He had never tasted something so good in his life. Perhaps this was on the upside of living in this future.

"You're hungry, I can tell," the nurse remarked, almost chuckling as Eric finished the meal. "I stopped by the cafeteria and got you something to eat while Natalie was around."

Eric thanked her and wiped his mouth with the napkin. He considered himself to have good table manners. "So what's your name?"

"Oh," the asari smiled. "I'm Alynea Tani. And you're Eric Grimes?"

"Yeah. Did Natalie tell you?"

"We're friends, actually. Is there something else I could do for you?"

Eric hummed to himself, curling his mouth as he thought about what to do next. The hospital could have a broad range of services available, but knowledge was crucial if he had to form up a plan. He resisted asking Alynea to mind-meld with him to exchange information. She wouldn't take the revelation she was part of a fictional universe well. That and asking a complete stranger for consent wouldn't go so well.

"Is there somewhere I can go online?"

"Yeah. We actually have an Extranet cafe here," Alynea answered.

"So… like a beefed-up Internet?"

Alynea furrowed her brow. "Something like that," she answered hesitantly.

Eric's hope went up he jolted up from his bed. Maybe he could find a way to earn a living here or a way to get back to Earth. "Great! Can you take me there?"

"Sure. It's down the hallway." The asari nurse approached the door as it opened, prompting them to leave the room.

Walking down the hallway, Eric found the place humming with activity, occupied by dozens of species, including humans. To his right, as he and Alynea took a left from his room, a window that covered the entire wall showed the other side of the lake. One doctor, an amphibian-like creature with black, large eyes, two cranial horns on top of its head, and a chest that curved inwards. He was looking at a diagnostics test on a holographic screen floating nearby. The doctor was a salarian, a warm-blooded amphibian that possessed a hyperactive metabolism. They think, talk, and move fast, but their lifespans were short—only 40 Earth years for most salarians.

The salarian doctor wore a white garb. His face, likely male, was thin and narrow, his skin a mix of light-gray and brown. He turned his attention away from his two colleagues to Eric.

"Hello, Eric Grimes," the salarian doctor spoke, though almost speaking at a quick pace. "Dr. Nasurn Glato Aegohr Nao Lalis Oron. But you can call me Dr. Oron for short."

"Wh-what?" Eric forgot how complex the salarian names could be. Not only they were smart, but they also loved to be thorough. He wished Alfonso was around to help him.

The doctor caught himself almost laughing and coughed, regaining his professional composure. "Allow me to explain. Our names include—in order—our home world, nation, city, district, clan, and then our given name at birth."

Eric blinked, shaking off the confusion. "Right, duh. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. A lot of humans can be thrown off, despite how some of you can have long names."

Eric nodded.

"So are you okay?" The concerned tone and the expression on the salarian's face were sincere, albeit a little cold.

Eric nodded again.

The doctor mused as he placed his two-fingered hand on his chin. "Amazing how adaptive the human race can be, especially for younger ones…"

"Uh… look, I gotta get going." Eric pointed behind him. "She's bringing me to an Extranet café. I don't want to keep her waiting."

The salarian nodded. "Yes, of course. I shouldn't keep you busy, then. Be seeing you." He turned to meet his colleagues once more. With that over, Eric had caught up with Alynea and continued onto the cafe.

He couldn't help but feel shocked yet fascinated at the same time. His brief conversation with Dr. Oron, a salarian, and witnessing some of the technologies here gave him a different perspective on the games. He knew the game wouldn't be able to show everything because of technological limitations, but playing them was nothing compared to experiencing them in the flesh. However, something bothered him since he had talked to Alynea and Dr. Oron.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?" Alynea replied.

"How can I understand you and Dr. Oron?" Eric asked.

She laughed. "Besides medicine, Dr. Oron and I have been trained in speaking several human languages. Many of our patients and several of our staff here are human, in fact. But some people stick with digital translators."

"Digital translators? What'd you mean by that?"

"They go into things like jewelry, earpieces, PDAs, and even neural implants. To be honest, I'm surprised you asked that, of all things."

"Sorry. Guess I'm just out of the loop here." Eric was embarrassed at his own ignorance, but he had to fight off the thought that it did not matter, with the war coming. If he didn't, he wouldn't be able to do anything at all.

They arrived at a medium-sized, white room filled with a dozen rows of desks. On top of them were the orange screens like the one on Alynea's forearm earlier. Like the rest of the hospital, it smelled clean, and the walls were spotless and pristine. One of the few occupants here had scaly, silver skin, two-toed feet, and a pair of mandibles over his plated mouth. Eric recognized the occupant as a turian.

"Here's the extranet cafe," said Alynea. "If you need anything else, don't be afraid to ask me or any other staff member." And for that, Eric thanked her.

After Alynea had left, he sat down at the nearest unoccupied terminal available. Looking at it, he drew a blank. How would he be able to use this thing? His hands hovered over the keyboard and pressed a key. He expected not to perceive anything when he placed his fingers on the holographic keys, but it felt like a real keyboard.

He looked at the screen and found a prompt popping up on the desktop, asking for what language did the user, meaning him, speak in. Naturally, he picked 'English' after scrolling through a long list of other languages, both Earth and alien. With that done, he tapped on the screen, bringing up an extranet browser and typed in 'Mass Effect' on the browser's search bar. The result was a series of articles on the mass effect field as a scientific phenomenon. He looked through an encyclopedic article of sorts, and to his surprise, it appeared to be entirely self-consistent. Some key variables had to be different, but so far, he hadn't found any glaring deviations.

He shrugged. At least the rules of this universe were consistent. But right now, he had to know his family had ever existed in his universe. With a new goal in mind, he went back to the search page.

 _Eric Grimes_

Most of the results had an athlete sharing his name. The image section didn't show any pictures of him, much to his annoyance. In fact, it shouldn't be possible. There _should_ be some version of him somewhere, however plausible that would be.

 _Garcia Grimes_

The results showed many people, but almost all of them had Garcia as their middle name. Grimes was a common surname, and there were trillions of people in the galaxy. But he was getting worried

 _Alfonso Grimes_

It was the same result as before, even after putting it in quotes.

 _Arturo Lorenzo_

 _Carol Lorenzo_

 _Felicia Grimes_

 _Tomas Grimes_

Frustrated, he typed in Grimes family tree. He hoped anything useful would show up. Spotting a site of a database for family trees, he clicked on the link. He typed his grandfather's name into the keyword box and altered the filters to his liking.

Nothing. No records of any sort. Eric was alone, a person out of place who should have never existed here. "No…" Eric covered his mouth. "Oh no no no no. You gotta be kidding me."

Even though none of them would be alive, he hoped he might find his family's descendants. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted the closure from visiting their burial sites and validation that he was real and once had a family. But there wasn't anything to connect him with anyone in this universe.

The turian broke away from his terminal, noticing Eric freaking out as he let out a gasp. Rather than words, the words the turian spoke sounded… off, like he had a thick accent that made it impossible for Eric to understand what he was trying to say.

Eric sat up and left the room. Finding a spot in the maze of hallways where he could be by himself, he leaned against the gray wall and dropped onto the floor, breaking down into tears.

He had no idea what to do now.


	3. Chapter 3: I'll Carry You Home Tonight

_UPDATE 1/17/14: In case it wasn't clear by the last chapter's narration, Eric's siblings were not dead. They were fine, very much likely heartbroken by the loss of their brother. Like Eric had told himself, it was just a nightmare._

 _As for this chapter, this was originally conceived by a friend of mine. He would like to write a dating scene/chapter when I asked him what he would like to do for me. However, as time went on, he was unable to write it due to focusing on other projects. So, he told me to take that chance and write it myself, and so I did._

 _Here you go. Enjoy the chapter, and I hope I did well writing a bit of romance, especially a same-sex couple._

* * *

 **Chapter Three: I'll Carry You Home Tonight**

 _Year: 2182  
Location: The Citadel_

It had been days since Eric arrived at the Citadel and into a new universe. Though to be more precise, a few Earth days. Time worked somewhat differently on the Citadel, using a form of the Decimal Time system. There were 20 hours in a day, a hundred minutes in an hour, and a hundred seconds in a minute. That was before dividing the number of seconds by half. The total amount of Earth seconds was an additional 13,600, which was about four hours.

With his current state of mind, it was pretty difficult for Eric to get off the Citadel. The lack of research regarding multiple universes did not help. The most relevant information he could find was this strange Extranet article. It was about a scientist's theory about how long ago, just about after the Big Bang, this universe collided with another. The theory had some merit, but his data analysis wasn't complete enough to prove it.

Ever since coming here, he couldn't help how this universe's version of BioWare fared. He typed in 'Mass Effect Bioware' on the search bar and hit enter on the omni-tool Natalie gave him. It was a handheld device, combining a computer micro-frame, a sensor analysis pack, and a minifacturing fabricator. Essentially, it was a high-tech, wrist-bound smartphone that appeared as a bright yellow-orange glow around his arm.

The first result on the page was an article about BioWare. According to the article, it was around for 28 years, from its founding in 1995 to its closing in 2023. He looked at the list of games they made, including their collaborations with Obsidian Entertainment: Shattered Steel, MDK 2, Baldur's Gate 1 and 2, and Neverwinter Nights 1 and 2. He was thrown off by the discrepancy when he noticed Baldur's Gate 3: The Black Hound among the list but quickly went along with it.

He looked through the list again. In this universe, BioWare extended both of their Dungeons and Dragons franchises and went in a different direction with their properties. Dragon Age was in development at one point, but it ended up costing too much to make. Meanwhile, Jade Empire received a sequel on the Xbox 360, which starred a different protagonist. Obviously, the Mass Effect series was never made. Instead, there was the SFX franchise, built on similar premises to Mass Effect. BioWare had also collaborated with Obsidian on modern spy RPG called Everything or Nothing.

Eric nodded. To him, it made sense in a roundabout way. He hit the back button on the browser and was about to search something else before a small news headline caught his attention.

 _Local game club celebrates its 15th anniversary with an influx of new members. Its founder, Mark Bren, claimed a connection between Gears of War game and modern military tactics._

Eric chuckled and clicked on the link. He had to see if this was as ridiculous as it sounded. And he was right. According to the article, Mark Bren, a librarian at the Arcturus Library, also claimed the game's creator had predicted the future and devoted his life to proving the connection. While few believed him, the uncanny similarity between the once-popular series' gameplay and the way current combat operations play out rekindled interest.

Eric gently palmed his face as he laughed in silence, amused that someone would make that leap of logic. Alfonso told him, out of spite if he remembered right, a while ago that the Mass Effect series' gameplay, especially with the latter two games, shared many similarities to Gears of War.

However, all that mirth disappeared when Natalie came into the living room with her face that read that she had some bad news for him.

"Sorry to say this, but C-Sec's putting you under surveillance for a while. If they find anything they think was suspicious about you, they'll use it against you once you apply for your documents."

"What? But why?! All I'm doing is just finding a way back home! Is there anything wrong with that?!" Eric exclaimed.

Natalie sighed, standing by him as he sat on the couch in the living room. She barely had time to get out of her C-Sec uniform. "I know it sucks, but you'll just have to bear with it, okay?"

Eric growled. Of course Natalie would say that. She meant well, but that doesn't mean it was right. The thought of being watched reminded him of Edward Snowden's NSA leak. He wondered if anyone had actually learned from that revelation.

But at least she let him stay at her place. It was a studio house, the roof slanting to the left if you go out front. The house was on the Bachjret Ward, one of the Citadel's five wards.

"Bachjret's a nice place. Peaceful and quiet for the most part," Natalie told him when she picked him up from the hospital. Natalie pitied him and asked him if he wanted to stay at her place, which he was more than happy to accept. "There are residential areas all over the station, but this ward had the most. Anyway, I'm sure you'll like Luke. Sweetest guy all 'round."

Luke was Natalie's husband. He was part of Special Forces of the 103rd Division, one of the largest groups in the Alliance. He and Natalie met up in San Francisco while he was on shore leave. They talked, hung out, and fell in love. He served and went on for five years before marrying Natalie last year. After that, he started running a restaurant on the Citadel. From what Eric heard, the food was great. He would love to try it out for himself if he was in a better mood.

Natalie decided it was enough to leave Eric alone. She walked down the hallway, leaving the young man alone.

* * *

The kitchen was moderately sized, filled with the usual appliances: the fridge, the double-sink across from the refrigerator, the oven next to it, and the stove on top of the oven. The dark counters were smooth and spotless. It looked shiny enough for someone to see their own reflection on it. The tiles, the black-and-white checkerboard pattern, looked like someone had been cleaning them 24/7.

Luke straightened his well-toned back after cleaning the countertop with a dishrag, the sleeves of his black t-shirt from washing the dishes earlier. How he managed to get his khaki shorts wet as well was beyond her.

He looked up, his dark eyes meeting her's. "Hey, sweetie," he smiled. "How's work?"

Natalie walked around the counter and gave Luke a kiss. "Nothing out of the ordinary, thankfully. You?"

Luke sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Not well. I had to ask a favor from a friend."

"One of your old war buddies?" Natalie asked.

"Something like that. He can help me get some credits to pay for our house and the restaurant. He expects something from me in return."

"What does he want?"

Luke shrugged. "I pressed the matter, but he said he'll come up with something." He noticed she looked away with a concerned expression on her face. "Was it something I did? About the favor?"

Natalie's eyes lit up. "Oh, no! I'm pretty sure your friend won't ask you to do something illegal. That's not what I'm worried about now."

Luke turned around to face his wife and rested his right arm on the counter. "Is it about Eric?"

"Yeah," Natalie nodded and turned to see Eric in the living room, still lounging around on the sofa with his omni-tool. "He's having a rough time. Imagine being separated from your family, your friends, and your parents and there's no way to reach out to them. They'll have no idea what happens to you, let alone know where you are."

Luke hugged Natalie from behind, his arms wrapped around her chest. She always loved having that five o'clock shadow of his rubbing on her shoulder. Especially when she can rub her hand through his brown, curly hair like that whenever they had their alone time. "Sounds crazy. But do you know what would help?" he asked, whispering in her left ear.

"Lemme guess… a date?"

Luke parted from her with a toothy smile. "Yeah, a blind date!" he said excitingly.

"But doesn't he want to get back home?" Natalie asked.

Luke scoffed. "Not a chance. I don't know how he's gonna pull _that_ off without inventing some new technology. Or pulling off a miracle, maybe." He snapped his fingers to gather his thoughts together. "Anyway, quick question: who's he attracted to? A man, woman, or any other variation? Is he into, well…" he continued with a shrug. "Human? Turian? Salarian? Asari?" He chuckled at the last word.

Natalie gave Luke the stink-eye. "You're married to me, you know," she pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," Luke rubbed the back of his neck.

Natalie fell into a thoughtful silence afterward. "I suppose you have a point about him finding a way back home. He told me he went to Angkor Wat before arriving here. Maybe we can arrange a trip ahead of time?"

"We'll see. Money's tight as it is," Luke said. "So… who's he into?"

"He told me he's into men. Human. He's still not used to aliens."

Luke rolled his eyes at his own ignorance. "Right. I know someone who could help."

Natalie smirked as she placed her arm on Luke. "Another friend of yours?"

"Yeah." Luke brought up his omni-tool, followed by a paper-thin screen floating above his wrist, and about as wide. "Emilie Pitt. She's still in the Alliance as a Service Chief. She has a son around Eric's age. Give or take."

A voice came out of the screen, the line in the middle suddenly vibrating in response. "Hey, Luke. What's up?"

"Hey, Emilie," Luke replied. "Listen, can you do something for us?"

* * *

At the Zakera Ward on the Citadel, there was an Italian restaurant with al fresco dining. The view was beautiful, showing much of the buildings below. The aroma wafted about in the air and the soft lighting hanging around the foundations of the patio made the place more appealing. Luke and Natalie said it was a nice place for a date. While most the restaurant's customers were human, as it was human-owned, there were asari on occasion and rarely turian, due to a lack of dextro-amino foods.

Eric sat at a table on the balcony. Not only was he waiting for his date, whoever he would be, he was also waiting for his order. He was in some good clothes: a pink collared shirt, black pants, and a pair of fancy shoes.

He frowned, more than a little impatient. _He's late._ To pass the time, he took upon himself to browse the Extranet on his omni-tool. Reading online articles, watching funny videos, the works.

"Hey hey, look who has hit the jackpot!" a man called out.

Eric turned his attention away from his omni-tool's screen, surprised. There was a stocky, fair-skinned man, standing about half a foot taller than him. His cropped auburn hair went along nicely with his square face and blue eyes. Wearing a pair of white shoes and dark space-age cargo pants, he swaggered in like no one's business. If he didn't know any better, Eric might have encountered the man of his dreams.

"So am I late or am _I_ late?" The young man sat down at the small square table across Eric.

"More like showing off," Eric shot back. He turned off his omni-tool and rested his elbows on the table. "What took you so long?"

"Bad traffic. Sorry," his date answered with his hands in front of him. He looked at the datapad containing the menu and tapped on it before turning his gaze to Eric. "Oh! I'm rushing a bit ahead of myself. My name's Garrett Pitt. You Eric Grimes? Mom mentioned you after her friends called her."

Eric nodded. "Yeah. It took a bit to convince me, but all in all, I'm just glad Luke and Nat set this up. They're paying for dinner and stuff if you're wondering."

"Awesome," Garrett grinned. "First time dating?"

"Uh… no, actually. This is my second or third time."

Garrett placed the pad down on the table. "Okay, that's good to hear." He nodded along with raised eyebrows. "That'll make things easier."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Eric smiled, his cheeks blushing red. "At least I get to talk to someone else."

"Don't mention it," Garrett replied. "Looks like you've really never been around other people."

Eric nodded. That was part of it. He wasn't the outgoing type unless he was around his family. He didn't have a whole lot of friends, to be honest. Another part was that despite the progress his world—his universe—had made, there was always some people who didn't like whatever change was brought upon them. So far, it seemed like humanity and the other species in this universe don't mind. He lived in Boston in his universe up to that point in his life, so perhaps he should consider himself lucky.

"By the way, are you from Boston? There was a bit of an accent. A…" Garrett tilted his right hand. "…twang in your voice. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I get what you mean. I was born and raised there."

"Oh, cool. Long ways away, if you ask me. So, what brings you to the Citadel?"

Eric hesitated, almost stuttering in his words as he bit his lips to shut himself up and lowered his head. He knew something like this would happen. Outside of Luke, Natalie, and maybe a couple other people at C-Sec, no one else knew where he came from. He didn't want to lie, make something up for everyone's convenience. Should he?

"I, uh, wanted to get out of Boston," Eric answered, not looking at Garrett. His guts twisted in knots. "I was a street kid, you know. Never knew my parents. Even though I went to school, it was pretty rough there. So I went to the Citadel to start up a new life and set my own course. I used up all my funds so I'm stuck here. I'm volunteering at the Presidium Hospital now until I can… I uh, can…" He was beginning to lose his train of thought, but he hoped it was enough.

"Put yourself back on track?" Garrett guessed.

"Yeah!" Eric nodded his head fanatically, widening his eyes. "Something like that."

Garrett gritted his teeth together. "Ouch, that's rough. I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Not your fault, but… thanks," Eric insisted. "Okay, my turn." He took a deep breath. "Where're you from?"

"Benning, in the Euler System. It's a garden world with its own automated agricultural system and everything. It's pretty nice, and it's nothing out of the ordinary, far as I can tell."

"Anything you can tell me about your parents?"

Garrett paused for a moment, curling his lips. "My mom's all right. She served in the Alliance, like my grandfather before her. Hell, my grandpa was there during the First Contact War."

If Eric remembered this right, then the First Contact War occurred in 2157, when the turians attacked a human ship en route to an inactive mass relay. The turians believed at the time what that ship would do was reckless, violating Citadel regulations after the rachni was unleashed over millennia ago. The war lasted for three months, after an orbital strike on a human colony and the turian occupation of said colony. It ended when the Council stepped in to negotiate a peace treaty before it could escalate into a full-out war.

"Okay, um…" Eric blinked, thinking up of what to say. "That's great. At this point, it seems like everyone's grandparents were there. Humans and turians, I mean."

"For a three-month war?" Garrett chuckled. "Yeah, probably. And don't forget our parents. We'll have to suffer for their sins." He bobbed his body left and right at the thought.

Eric laughed heartily. "What about your dad, then? Well, if you had a dad, that is."

His date exhaled as all mirth disappeared from his face. "Look, about my dad… I never knew him, all right? He died in an eezo accident when I was three."

Eric nodded. He rubbed the temples of his head as a headache began to settle in. Anxiety was creeping up at the back of his head, and he couldn't take it any longer. "Listen, mind if I take a walk inside? The atmosphere's a bit thin here." Before Garrett could say a single word, Eric sat up and paced around.

Garrett also sat up. "You sure it's the atmosphere?" he asked, somewhat suspicious. "It's breathable up to seven meters, and we're not even halfway up." He approached Eric from behind. "So what's eating you?"

Eric looked over his shoulder to Garrett. "Nothing. It's—" He rubbed his brow as he turned to Garrett.

"You're anxious." Garrett placed his hand on his hip. "I can tell just by looking at you. Is it because of our date?"

"Wait, what?" Eric was at first flabbergasted, but the more the thought about it, the more it made sense. "Oh. Oh!" He nodded wearily. "I get what you mean. I'm not sure if we could make this work."

Garrett curled his lips and rolled his eyes incredulously. "It's called a blind date for a reason. It's awkward. Really, really awkward. Besides…" He gently grabbed Eric's hands held it up to his chest. "I don't know how this would turn out, but we're gonna make this work. You get me? We're gonna make it work."

Eric looked up at him. "You sure?"

'Yeah, I'm sure. In fact, I'm absolutely positive!"

Eric nodded. "Okay." There was a warm feeling inside his chest. For once, he was awestruck not by the technology here, not the aliens, but another person caring for him. "Thank you. I think I needed that."

Garrett let out a small chuckle. "Don't mention it."

"So, um…" Eric smacked his lips together. "Is this the part where we kiss for the first time, like in the movies?" Eric couldn't believe he asked that stupid question. He should feel rather embarrassed.

Garrett was caught off-guard, though he brushed it off with an awkward laugh. "Well, we'll just have to wait and see. You never kissed anyone outside of your family before?"

"Nah. I get nervous."

Their conversation was interrupted when one of the restaurant's waiters walked up to the table and placed two plates, two cups full of soda, a small cup of red sauce, and a basket of breadsticks on the table. "Your orders are here." The waiter had a slight accent. "Let me or anyone of us know if you need anything else."

Both Eric and Garrett thanked the waiter, and he set off. One plate was full of ravioli while the other had a lasagna fritta. And with that, Eric and Garrett sat at their places. As they began eating, they decided to talk about other things.

Maybe this would work out just fine.

* * *

Several weeks had passed since Eric arrived on the Citadel. It was funny how time would just slip by when falling in love.

Garrett and Eric emerged from a movie theater in the Zakera Ward, the humongous post above showing an athletic man wearing a form-fitting, white-and-yellow costume leaping in a combat stance. In each of his hands were daggers, split in the middle. In the background was an intense fight going on, probably something out of a space-fantasy movie.

The two parted from the crowd leaving the theater. There was a smile on Eric's face.

"So how does it feel to be right about the movie?" Garrett asked as they turned left. Garrett would have to admit he was wrong about the film. At their right, past the railing and below, skycars zipped by, past the neon signs and almost monolithic buildings.

"Feels good," Eric answered.

"You bet. It's better than I expected. Not really into that superhero stuff, mind you."

Eric turned around as his hands were in his pockets and started walking backward. He was wearing a new set of clothes. A green-collared shirt to go with a pair of black pants and white sneakers. The way Garrett wore that skin-tight T-shirt, which showed off his abs, made it hard to avert his eyes. Some of the passersby would agree, either just as distracted or confused. "Oh, bet you'll like it. The superhero-y stuff. Fighting evil, saving the world. That sort of thing."

Eric turned back around. The stopped when they were a few meters away from a sickly-green bug-like creature to their left, across from the railing. It stood as tall as a child with an orange flap hanging around its neck like a livesaver jacket. That thing was a keeper, first discovered by the asari when they arrived on the Citadel. Docile and harmless, this species was believed to be created by the Protheans to watch over the station.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Garrett asked.

Eric raised his eyebrows, suspicious. "What?"

"I want you…" Garrett said as he pointed at the green creature. "…to poke that keeper over there."

Eric's jaw hit the ground. "What?! Are you out of your mind?" He gave his boyfriend an incredulous look.

Garrett shrugged. "Don't look at me. You made me do something I didn't want to do. Now it's my turn. Besides, kids used to do that stuff. Kinda like a game of 'let's poke the keeper'!"

"We _are_ kids! Hell, we're barely even adults!" Eric insisted.

Garrett scoffed. "Keeper. Poke it." His eyes widened with excitement. "I dare ya!"

Eric shook his head. "No way in hell! Unlike you, I've read accident reports on what happened when someone decided it was a good idea to mess around with a keeper."

Garrett folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the railing behind him. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"All right. Prove it."

Eric huffed. "Uh… let me think." He snapped his fingers together, trying to come up with the right words. It was hard to think it through, being in a rather awkward and stressful, stressful situation. "Uh… when you interfere with a keeper, it sets off a self-destruct sequence. It melts into a puddle of acid. I didn't get to sleep that night."

"And?"

"There's Avina." Eric pointed his thumb at a purple holographic figure of an asari, who was standing by the keeper.

"Please do not disturb the keeper," Avina, the Citadel's VI, warned Garrett politely. There was no other intonation in her voice, nor did her face showed any expression. VI was short for virtual intelligence. Eric knew that virtual intelligence was not the same thing as artificial intelligence, as they lacked the program needed to achieve self-awareness. Instead, they were sophisticated applications, able to assist its users in a variety of ways.

Garrett could only pout in annoyance. "Okay, you're right. Again. I was joking, anyway. But…" He walked forward and pressed his lips against Eric's, catching him off guard. But he didn't mind so much if it wasn't so unexpected. It had lasted for several seconds before they parted. "That was for the movie. You owe me another thing for making me look stupid."

"So what is it?"

"Dunno. I'll come up with something," Garrett answered. "Anyway, gotta go. See ya! Love you." With that, he parted in the opposite direction from where Eric was heading.

Alone, Eric turned around and went to a terminal, planted on a stand. It was a rapid transit, doing what the name implied. Next to the transit was a small, red shuttle with the windshield encasing the front half of the roof. When he approached the vehicle, the roof opened of its own accord. Inside were four seats, two at each row.

He hopped inside, on the driver's seat. The windshield closed, and the skycar levitated as he placed his hands on a haptic screen. He then issued a command, telling the skycar's VI to go to his destination: Natalie's house. Bachjret Ward. His skycar took off and joined with the rest of the traffic, which led from the Zakera Ward to the Bachjret Ward. Traffic was heavy there, with a bunch of liners and other skycars lined up in all directions.

His thoughts turned to his encounter with the keeper, and everything relating to the Reapers. It was one thing to know the truth. To him, it was a painful thing, not being able to do a damn thing about it.

Soon, he managed to get out of traffic and onto a series of houses and apartment complexes. They were varied: some had multiple floors—at least two—while others had decks at the back. It looked more like a city than a neighborhood with a lack of vegetation, not even some grass.

He landed in front of Natalie's house. Soon as he stepped out, the skycar took off on its own accord.

What wasn't there before was a blue cab parked by where he stood, right in front of the studio house. At first, he thought Natalie was home after a long day at work. However, he realized that meant she would be here early. She would never leave the skycar like that. Did something happen?

Eric pressed his thumb on a touchscreen by the front door. It scanned and beeped soon after. "Fingerprint confirmed. Welcome home, Eric," a female and monotone voice spoke from the speaker below the screen.

The door opened, and he stepped inside, overhearing a conversation from the dining room, which was next to the kitchen ahead. It was the room with an oak table, fitted for eight people. A huge window covered an entire side of the room, showing a good view of the ward.

He went there, finding Luke and a female turian with distinctive black tattoos covering her face sitting at the table. She was wearing the turian form of a blue-and-black C-Sec uniform, though it looked to be more like armor than anything.

"Wait! Take it slow! He's not used to—" Luke protested, reaching out as he almost sat up but stopped when the turian looked over her shoulder and raised her hand.

"Are you Eric Grimes?" the turian asked. She stood up from her chair. Eric gasped, taken aback by her towering over him. She stood more than a foot taller than him.

Eric nodded, still intimidated by the turian's height. "Vanea Surtius," the female turian stated. "I'm with C-Sec. I'm here to bring you in for questioning."

Aside from appearing in this universe without any scientific explanation, he can't imagine what else they wanted from him. What could he have done wrong?


	4. Chapter 4: The Little Things

_UPDATE 1/14/17: Fun fact: this flashback you were about to see was originally a dream sequence back in the second chapter. And this wasn't even the first dream sequence I came up with. The first one showed Eric finding his brother playing Mass Effect 3 back in 2012 during Christmas. 4Ferelden objected to that, wondering why Eric would have that train of thought when he passed out in the hospital in the old version._

* * *

 **Chapter Four: The Little Things**

 _Year: 2012  
Location: Boston, Massachusetts_

The spring air was fresh after a day's worth of April showers. The sun showed itself through the parting clouds, revealing the sky above. The long grass swayed and parted in the wind, the drops of water falling off each blade.

It was a special day for Eric, and he wasn't alone in the park.

It had been less than a week since his father had returned from his recent tour in Afghanistan. While his job as an intelligence analyst kept him safe from the combat zone, the whole family was still glad to see him alive and well. On the surface, Tomas Grimes looked pretty much the same before he went to Afghanistan. He was a pale, middle-aged man of medium height, clean shaven with short, dark hair. His eyes were hazel, rimmed by dark lashes. On the outside, only his physical build had changed. He had lost weight, and his face bore the signs of both age and weariness. Inside was a whole different story.

At home, he would tell them about other analysts he worked with, and the military personnel he came to know, the stories they shared and the jokes they told. He said little about what he actually did—some because it was classified, but they suspected there was much more he wasn't willing to say. None of them want to push him further. They rejoiced in his return since they knew their time with him was short; soon he would deploy again.

"It's good to be back home," Tomas told his son. Eric nodded as they walked down the narrow path together. "Maybe we should go out more often."

Eric agreed. "What about the movie theater? The Avengers is coming out next month."

His father smiled. "All of you loved the time we've spent together. And you turned out well. Your sister found a job she liked and met a nice bloke, and you're a straight-A student. Alfonso, well… I wonder if we missed something with him."

"I appreciate it, Dad. But why are we talking about this? What's the point?"

"The point?" Tomas chuckled. "I thought philosophers do that, not scientists. You think how things work, not why they happen. But it's pretty easy to connect the two, eh?"

He paused. "I was your brother's age when I joined the US Army; it was about doing the right thing, setting the right goals for us. Freedom, liberty, security—stuff like that. But as the months go on with no progress in sight, we focused on the little things. We assisted in this operation for a week, protecting these two villages for another month. Then we provided intelligence to guide this convoy back in place and get everyone home safe. The little things are the ones that matter. They're part of the big picture. They gave us purpose even when our commanding officers couldn't."

The once gentle wind intensified in its strength. Eric looked at the sky. The clouds seemed to be gathering again…

* * *

 _Year: 2182  
Location: The Citadel_

Eric was at the C-Sec headquarters with Vanea Surtius. As they walked down the archway of a hallway, Eric stopped when he overheard a conversation coming from an office nearby. One of the voices sounded familiar, so he took a quick look inside.

"…what's going on? This is the first time I've heard about it." It was a young male turian, his face covered in plain navy-blue tattoos. His question was directed at a bright-blue skinned asari, sitting at her desk. Eric couldn't put his finger on it, but the turian sounded pretty familiar…

The asari officer exhaled sharply and rubbed her temples together. "Look, you were kind of busy, so I'll keep it short: one of our own wanted to keep this… case confidential. She said it would cause trouble or something."

"I… what?" The turian blinked and shook his head as he planted his talons on the desk. "That doesn't explain the commotion I've heard about. What are you talking about?"

"Honestly? Other than Pallin wanting to bring the human in for questioning? No idea why." The asari shrugged. "If you want to know more, he's right here." She pointed at Eric, and the turian noticed Eric just standing there.

"Uh… hi." Eric waved slowly and awkwardly.

The turian approached him. Like Vanea, he stood about a foot taller than Eric did. Granted, Shepard was rather tall regardless of gender. Hey." The turian was rather hesitant, but it was obvious he was trying to be friendly. "You're Eric Grimes?"

Eric answered with a simple "Yes."

"Garrus Vakarian," the turian introduced himself. "I take it you're the one everybody's talking about all the sudden?"

 _That explained a lot._ Garrus Vakarian was one of Commander Shepard's squadmates in all three games. Garrus was a C-Sec investigator, willing to help others in need but had authority issues, contrasting most other turians' belief in military discipline and obedience.

"Yeah," Eric answered. "Look, if it means anything, I haven't done anything wrong."

Garrus huffed bitterly. "I'll take your word for it. I just hope whatever you're going through would be over quickly."

Before Eric could reply, a talon tapped his shoulder. He turned at his turian escort.

"Let's go," the female turian said, more than a little impatient.

"Guess I shouldn't keep you waiting. Good luck," said Garrus.

Eric followed her to a brightly lit room with plain white walls surrounding him and a large, two-way mirror at his right, the kind he saw on cop shows. He knew that while an officer was interviewing the suspect, at least two others would observe, unseen, on the other side of the mirror. Seeing the setup of the room, he knew what was coming.

A pale man with high cheekbones and a crew cut for his blond hair sat at the table in the middle of the room. He wore the same blue-and-black uniform as everyone else working at C-Sec. Judging by his appearance and his occupation, the man could be in his mid-twenties. But knowing the medical advances in this universe, he might be older than he looked.

The man looked up at Eric from his datapad with a smile. "Hey, you're Eric Grimes?" He stood up and offered his hand. There was a sense of warmth in his English voice.

Eric shrugged and took the offer, shaking the man's hand. It wouldn't hurt to be friendly, especially if could help move his case forward. "Yeah. You?"

"Edwin Ross, at your service," the man answered. "This is my first year at C-Sec _and_ my first time questioning someone like you." Edwin chuckled. "Right then. Why don't you take a seat over there?" He gestured to an empty seat at the other end of the table.

"Okay." Eric nodded, and both men sat down. Nervous, he broke out in sweat and looked down at the table. Eric took a deep breath to calm himself down. Like with Natalie, he had to bend the truth to make the story believable. He didn't want to lie about his predicament, but it was that or having the cops decide he was nuts and lock him up. His stomach churned, leaving a rather bitter taste in his mouth.

Edwin noticed his discomfort. "You okay?" he asked.

Eric looked up and shook his head. "No. I… I just want to go home."

The officer sighed, looked down at the datapad, and back up at Eric. "Look, I know you're in a tight spot. From a law enforcement standpoint, I see nothing wrong with you, but I can understand why the brass is interested in your case. It's not every day someone just drops out of the blue into the Presidium." Edwin chuckled at the thought. "Anyway, let's try to get this over with."

"Thanks," Eric sighed, relieved.

"Don't mention it. It's part of the job. You know: protect the people, maintain law and order, and ensure justice. All the good stuff we're all supposed to do." Edwin smiled and looked back down at his datapad once again. "Okay…" He tapped on the screen a few times. "I'll be asking you some questions, short and sweet. It will be recorded. You okay with that?"

"I guess," Eric shrugged, worried yet willing to go along.

"Okay, then. Was the information you provided is accurate?" It looked like Edwin was reading out loud from the datapad. Either he was new to this whole thing, using the datapad as a guide, or just following procedure. Or maybe both.

"Yeah," Eric answered.

"Good. And…" Edwin squinted at his datapad. He shot his head back up and back down in quick succession. "Huh?"

Eric arched an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

Edwin shook his head and placed the datapad on the table. "Nah, it's that orb you've told Mrs. Clay about." He breathed in and out, almost in rhythm, as his hands had sealed his mouth. "Okay, about that…"

Eric raised his hands in protest. He hoped Edwin wouldn't see him as insane. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but it's true."

"I'm not saying I don't believe you at all, it's just that—"

"That it's nothing like anyone has ever encountered before," Eric finished, nodding somberly. "Yeah. I get that."

Edwin sat silent after entering a few commands on the datapad. After that, he stood up and went to the door that just opened. "I'll be right back." He left the room, leaving Eric alone.

The silence alone was uneasy enough for Eric, and it made him feel paranoid. He twiddled his thumbs together and bit his tongue, fighting off the thought that C-Sec was after him for some obscure reason.

Finally, the door slid opened, and Edwin entered, a smile appearing on his face as if he received some good news.

"Well? W-what's the word?" His hands trembling on the armchair, Eric was about ready to stand up and head on out.

"You're free to go, Eric," Edwin answered. "Mrs. Clay is waiting out front."

"Just like that? You guys are not gonna arrest me?"

"Nope."

At that moment, Eric jumped up and went to shake the officer's hand very hard. He was extremely excited to be out of his room. It was claustrophobic in here. "Gracias, gracias! Thank you very much!"

"Hey, no problem. Just doing my job here."

Eric left the interrogation room in a hurry, ignoring a bald, brown-skinned man who was taking notes from the conversation earlier. After making his way to the hallway, he saw a bronze-skinned female human resting against the wall nearby. Her long, brown hair was tied in a ponytail as she wore a red T-shirt and tan pants, along with a pair of white sneakers.

"Hey, Natalie," Eric approached the woman, recognizing her.

The woman looked at him and stood up from the wall. "Hey, yourself. Sounds like my buddies let you go pretty early."

"That guy, Edwin Ross, was pretty quick."

"He's the rookie, right?"

"Yeah, I think so. I just wish I wasn't treated as a criminal, y'know," Eric whined. "I'm a person. I'm human."

"I know, I know. We had no idea how to deal with a case like yours, so we're taking precautions here," Natalie answered.

"Right," Eric scoffed.

Natalie set out for the exit, with Eric following behind. "By the way, I just finished my latest report, so I'm free for tonight."

"What was your report?"

Natalie exhaled, struggling to keep herself from laughing. "Okay, you're not gonna believe this, but this one's an elcor serial killer."

Eric snickered, staring at the C-Sec officer in disbelief. "Oh, Dios. You're kidding, right? An elcor? The one species that use prefixes to express their emotions?"

Natalie shrugged. "That's the same reaction I got when Ian Shaw brought him in. I don't know how he managed to capture him but he just… did."

The academy was populated with the Citadel's denizens, as well as the officers and investigators making the station a safe place, or at least trying to. Through the white, square corridor from the exit, Eric and Natalie made it to one of the wards on the Citadel. Walking up the stairs to their right, Eric saw four of the station's five arms reaching out into outer space.

The marketplace was crowded, brimming with activities and vibrant with high-tech gadgetry. Some of them were exotic, such as the advertisements pestering Eric about state-of-the-art omni-tools from holographic pillars.

He approached the railing and imagined having complete silence around him. He never found it old to watch the faraway sounds of starships flying by, beyond the station and among the stars.

"Enjoying the sites?"

Eric snapped out of his thoughts and spun around to an inquisitive Natalie, who was standing right next to him. "Uh, yeah. I just got distracted. I've been thinking of something."

"What's up?"

"…Wasn't your husband nicknamed Jolly Rogers because of a tattoo? I think you told me that."

Natalie shook her head and laughed. "No, I didn't. Even if I asked him, I couldn't get a straight answer. Now come on, we need to get going."

"Okay." Eric nodded and started following her again.

When Natalie tapped in a command on a terminal near a med clinic, nothing happened for a moment. As they waited for their ride, Eric turned around to see a green light appearing on the door, telling him that the clinic was open.

An engine hummed behind him. He turned to a white shuttle with a windshield encasing half of the roof. The windshield opened of its own accord which showed four seats, two in each row. Eric and Natalie hopped in, with Eric sitting next to her, and put their seatbelts on. The windshield closed, and the car levitated as Natalie placed her hands on a haptic screen. She issued a series of commands, telling the car's VI of their destination: her house.

Their skycar took off, joining in the rest of the traffic as it went from one ward to another. Because of the still heavy traffic, Natalie started asking Eric about his family to pass the time.

"Huh?" he blinked in confusion, not paying attention the first time.

"I asked if you have any relatives who served in the military. You don't talk a lot about them," she clarified.

"Oh. Well, uh…" Eric pressed his lips together. "My papa served and went to Afghanistan a couple times. He was an analyst."

"What branch did he serve in?"

A pregnant pause. "I think he was in the US Army."

"You two get along fine before, well…?"

Eric hesitated, letting out a rattled and slow breath. By the look on Natalie's face, it was clear she was regretful. "Not well, I take it? I'm sorry…"

Eric shook his head, insistent. "No no, you're fine. I'm glad you asked."

"Was your dad like that because you're gay?"

He shook his head in almost an instant. "Not like that, no. He seems okay with who I love. It's just that… ever since he finally came back home a few years ago, he hasn't been the same."

They landed in front of Natalie's house.

As Eric and Natalie exited the vehicle, it lifted off by itself and took off. They approached the front door, and Natalie pressed her thumb against the touchscreen.

"Fingerprint confirmed. Welcome home, Natalie," the voice from the touchscreen spoke.

They stepped inside the living room. To their right was a window large enough to cover most of the front side. Two black leather couches lay next to each other at a 90-degree angle. Across from the coffee table and the couches was an ultra-thin TV resting above a fireplace.

"Luke, we're home! Is dinner ready yet?" Natalie asked.

"Nah, not yet," Luke yelled out from the kitchen down the hallway. "I just put the pizza in the oven, so it's gonna be a bit. When it's ready, you'll have to eat in the dining room. I had a hard time cleaning the mess in the living room the other day."

"Okay," Natalie replied. Almost immediately after, she collapsed on the couch.

Eric walked down the hallway next to the front room. A small, yellow orb, a holographic drone programmed to assist Natalie and Luke around the house, was responsible for cleaning up the place.

Luke stood by the oven in the kitchen. His beard had just started growing. His clothes seemed rather mundane: a pair of black jeans and an orange shirt, the sleeves having been cut off at the elbows.

He spun around to Eric with a grin on his face. "Hey, man. How did it go?"

Eric shrugged. He was just about done with talking about that interrogation. "Pretty quick."

Luke's eyes widen. "Really? That's, uh, unusual. Usually, that kind of thing would last for _hours_."

"Did Natalie tell you?"

"I've been asked about this stupid guy back last year. He jacked up on a lot of stims, yelling about god-knows-what."

Eric dropped his jaw so hard it was like it had hit the ground. He tried to keep himself from laughing but failed. "That's just horrible!"

Luke laughed. "You kidding me? I could barely hold myself together during that whole case! The guy's fine, far as I know."

Eric felt a little awkward. "Oh. Sorry."

"Nothing to be worried about," Luke insisted.

"Hey, Eric!" Natalie called out from the living room, interrupting the conversation. "Could you come here for a minute?"

Eric turned to see Luke again. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Luke nodded, now occupied by the drone.

Eric went to the living room, finding Natalie on the couch. She was playing a game of some sort. From the gleam of excitement in her eyes, she was building herself up for a pretty intense moment. In her hands was a controller. It looked like someone had mashed together the shape of an Xbox One controller with a PlayStation 4 controller button layout and called it a day.

He turned to the screen. On it was a person in plate armor, black as obsidian. He couldn't find any features that could tell who he or she was, being covered from head to toe. However, the person was clearly humanoid, being athletically built. In the warrior's hands was a two-handed sword, though it was too big to be called a sword. It was massive, thick, heavy, and far too rough. Indeed, it was a heap of iron.

The armored warrior then lifted their weapon at Natalie's command and spun quickly, causing the blade to be covered in fire. Eric was confident it was so fast it burned up. And somehow, the warrior didn't break their arms, if not their entire body. Does metal actually combust like that? In a single stroke, one of the dragon's head onscreen was cut off. The decapitated head let out an ear-piercing scream as the fires turned it to ash.

Eric let out a quick breath, startled by the scene before him. "What's this game?" he wondered as he turned back to her.

Natalie paused the game and turned to Eric. "It's an action-oriented RPG called Redeemer. It's set in a world called Rurath, borrowing a lot from Slavic mythology."

"Like that two-headed dragon you were fighting?"

Natalie nodded. "Yep."

"Who're you playing as?"

"Her name's Casmira, a knight who has a symbiotic bond with a demon. The game doesn't explain what kind of demon she had," Natalie explained, waving her hand without moving her forearm. "She's a tank-type class with some fire-based attacks."

"Okay." Eric plopped down next to Natalie.

"Anyway, I've been thinking… you talked a lot about your dad lately. What about the rest of your family? Friends, maybe someone you love?"

Eric stroked his chin, taking the question into consideration. "Hm… yeah. I have two siblings—a brother and a sister. Both of them are older than me. My sister worked at a local news channel as a meteorologist and my brother, well… he was in college. Assuming he didn't goof off." He sighed. "I miss them. I really miss my mom, too. She was always there for me, helping whenever she could." He fell into a thoughtful silence.

Eric missed his sister and her enthusiasm about their destination in Bangkok and Angkor Wat. He also missed his brother's eccentric personality, which was a common sign of someone diagnosed with ADHD. He sure missed his mother's loving smiles. He even missed his father and his attempts to reconnect with them all.

Their vacation together was supposed to be that time to relax, to recover from whatever hardships they went through the year. Instead, that goddamn orb ruined his whole life by bringing him here. Wasn't it Garcia's idea to go to Thailand in the first place? He knew it wasn't her fault, not like she ever planned that to happen.

He was just about to cry but stopped when he saw the pity on Natalie's face. "I don't know if I said it back at the hospital, but I'm sorry for your loss."

Eric shook his head, insistent. "No no no, it's not your fault but thanks."

The oven in the kitchen let out an electronic ding. From this spot, they could barely hear it, but it was there. "Well, that was quick." Luke opened the oven and got the pizza out. "Dinner's ready!"

Eric and Natalie sat up and went to the kitchen. Soon as they arrived, Luke had gotten out the pizza as well as the assortment of plates and cups. The familiar smell of dinner whiffed about as Eric grabbed a slice. It had many layers, with cheese, pepperonis, black olives, and green peppers on top. The sausage was actually synthetic, as Luke had told him of the various chemical compounds, stem cells, and proteins that made the meat taste like actual meat.

He turned to the large window behind him when he sat down at the oak table. Out there, he had a good view of another house. Two turians were sitting on a bench in a backyard. One of them a male adult and the other his son, judging by the turian child's small size. From what Eric understood of the turians' heavily militaristic culture, the turian was teaching his son about discipline. Of course, they could just be talking about school instead. Who was he to judge how another species act?

"So what have you been up to lately?"

Eric looked back at Natalie. She was sitting across from him, taking a kiss on the cheek by Luke. Blushing, she smiled as Luke sat down next to her, his plate filled with two slices of pizza.

"Well, I've done some voluntary work at the hospital," Eric answered, a little nervous about talking. He rested his head against his hand as he took a bite off his slice. "And I've been looking for a way back home." He scoffed. "No such luck."

"What about Garrett? How's he doing? He treating you right?"

Eric let out a small smile, feeling a little warm inside. "Yeah, he's great. You know that one movie Garrett and I saw earlier today?"

"Which one? There are a surprisingly lot of superhero movies these days," Natalie quipped.

"Wild Dagger," Eric answered.

"Nice." Luke took a bite out of his pizza. "So you were planning on going to MIT, right?"

"Yeah."

"So what'd you want to study?"

"Quantum mechanics, with a minor in computer science," Eric answered. "It was my physics teacher's idea about quantum mechanics. I used to go to church, so he convinced me on that front." He shrugged. "I was raised Catholic by my parents."

"Yeah?" Luke asked. "I've read about what life was like nearly two centuries ago, but I want to hear it from you."

"I…" Eric paused. He wanted to say that after he came out of the closet to his parents, the others found out, including his peers at school and at church. He wanted to say several members of his church don't approve of his sexuality, despite Massachusetts being one of the most progressive states. That was why he and his family left.

Instead, he said, "No, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Ah." Luke looked a little disappointed, but he continued eating. His mouth was half-full with pizza before swallowing. "Speaking of quantum mechanics, the Alliance is working on a quantum entanglement communicator. It's where a pair of particles interacts with each other, transferring information in an instant. It can't be intercepted as easy as a comm buoy, that's for sure. Damn useful for the Alliance." He sighed and shook his head. "Everyone goes for the damn comm buoys."

"What's the catch?" Eric asked.

"It doesn't have infinite energy, for one," Luke explained. "Law of Conversion. You can't make anything from nothing. It'll likely have a limited bandwidth. Plus, we don't know the exact momentum of the particles. Doesn't help that it's fragile. It's gonna be a while until we get a good, durable model."

Eric ate the rest of his pizza as the rest continued eating in silence. The huge slice made him feel nourished for the night.

Natalie spoke out. "So what do you want?"

"What do you mean?" Eric asked.

"I mean, what do you want to do next with your life?" Natalie asked.

Eric closed his eyes for a moment. "I… To be honest, I don't know. I was on summer break before I wound up here. I don't have much of a plan besides going off to college." He opened his eyes, wistful. "I've heard about the Jon Grissom Academy. The way I hear it, it's like MIT, but in space."

Natalie stifled a laugh while Luke leaned forward with a friendly gesture. "Or maybe you could, y'know… join the Alliance Navy."

Eric found himself taken aback, giving Luke a double take. Him joining the military? He wanted to protest, claim he wouldn't last long, that he would rather do something else with his life than standing around patrol and possibly kill people. Instead, all he could mutter out was, "I'm sorry, what?"

Luke curled his mouth, thinking up of something. "It wouldn't hurt to try," he responded. "The Alliance can put you in basic training for 16 weeks and several months of specialized training. I think, anyway, depending on whether they've updated their training protocol or not."

"No, no," Eric shook his head in protest. "I don't think that's a good idea. Just because my dad was in the military doesn't mean _I_ have to. What makes you think that's a good idea?"

"So what do you wanna do? If you signed up and served a tour or two, it'll be an easy way for you to get a scholarship. They have an education program that'll help you."

Eric was annoyed. "And be faced with constant death and violence?"

"Most Marines don't face that kind of thing while on duty."

"I'll have a better shot at Grissom Academy. Maybe C-Sec or some other job."

"None of us can afford to take you to the Academy or at MIT. Do you know how expensive the tuition is, right? Good god. And I don't think things would work out between you and C-Sec," Luke replied. Natalie rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed grunt. "Err… no offense, honey."

"I'm just messin' with ya!" Natalie replied and elbowed him gently in the chest.

Luke turned back to Eric, an awkward look appearing on his face. "A lot of people already filled up the positions in C-Sec and, well, everywhere else. Most of them are not human because we don't have an official position on the Council. We've only been in the galactic community for almost three decades."

"Besides," Natalie butted in, "the Alliance would appreciate someone with your talents. The best part is that you can get to the Academy with their blessing. But it's your choice, Eric. Not like we're not pushing you or anything."

Eric closed his eyes for a moment, realizing that Luke and Natalie may have a point. He had no degree, no job, and no money to support him. He might as well hear them out. "So if I say yes, then where do I sign up?"


	5. Chapter 5: Welcome to the Alliance

_UPDATE 1/14/17: I was a little hesitant when I was writing the flashback scene in this chapter. This was the part where a gay man of color was bullied in an otherwise progressive state. This may happen rarely and I've read reports where Latino people were harassed and discriminated against. Also, I live in a red state (right-wing/conservative, for those who don't live in the US), where this happened more commonly. I've shown it to a couple of my LGBT friends and they think I did a pretty good job, so that was all well and good._

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Welcome to the Alliance**

 _Year: 2011  
Location: Boston, Massachusetts_

The clock struck about a quarter after 2 PM, and the bell rang.

Almost everyone in the classroom rushed to the exit. Eric sat at his desk and waited. He wasn't a big fan of crowds. Crowds smell and as the name would imply, they were crowded, having little space to move around in. Soon as everybody else left, he gathered his textbooks and papers, said goodbye to his Chemistry teacher, and left the classroom.

It was Friday and close to summer. In fact, Eric was almost done with 9th grade.

He walked down the hallways at East Boston High School and made his way to his locker. Opening it, he grabbed his blue-lined backpack and stuffed it with his books and papers. He put his backpack on and closed the locker.

Eric went to the front of the school. He didn't want to keep his siblings waiting for him. Soon as he reached for the door, he froze in fear when a voice he didn't want to be familiar with called his name.

He turned around, meeting face to face with two white guys. One of them was muscular, wearing a black T-shirt with a rock band logo on it. The other was chubby and bald, also wearing something similar to his muscular friend. Here, they made up a minority of the school's demographics with half of the students being Hispanic.

"Uh… hi, Brock. Hi, Damien. What's going on?" Eric asked, nervous. He had his back up against the wall as the two ganged up on him.

"Just thought you would miss us. We sure did." Brock, the one with muscles, pulled off a gleeful smile.

"What do you want?" Eric asked.

"What do you think?" Damien the fat man snapped. "You believe that we deserve that detention? Maybe you should learn a lesson in 'why you shouldn't fuck with us.'"

Eric could easily leave with them none the wiser. He would tell his family what happened and spur them into action like last time, sending these two jackasses back to detention. But would these two ever learn even if the hint was right up to their faces?

He could make a stand here. There were a couple other people here; some of them were watching and wondering what the hell was going on. Would they be able to carry out with reporting them to the principle?

The best bet would be to make a run for it. His mom knew what to do.

He slipped by without saying another word and went through the door. He had gotten outside, greeting the hot and humid mid-May air before him. Just as he thought it was over, the doors had burst open and out came a furious Brock.

"Get the fuck over here, you little bitch!"

Eric's heart skipped a beat, and he started running on the sidewalk. Brock was catching him quickly.

A heavy grunt and a thud caused him to stop running. Panting, he turned around to find his brother had tackled Brock to the ground. Damien wasn't far behind. He charged in and grabbed Alfonso by his hair. Alfonso yelled and elbowed Damien in the stomach. Damien groaned in pain and dropped Alfonso. Brock rose and gave Alfonso a black eye with a right hook.

Eric spun around and called out for help. The fight caught the school guard's attention. Middle-aged with peachy skin and a crew cut, the guard's silver badge gleamed on his dark-blue shirt.

Damien whipped out a pocket knife. Eric gasped, now terrified for his life. He couldn't move.

Damien lunged at Eric, only for Alfonso to step in and take the hit. Blood trailed down his chin as he fell on the grass.

A flash of dark skin and a student caught Damien by the waist and wrestled him to the ground.

Brock knelt down and raised his hands up in the air. Meanwhile, Eric helped his brother get up, letting him sit down to get his bearings. Alfonso was pale; there was a deep gash on his chin, and one of his eyes had swollen shut.

Eric froze. "Holy shit, are you okay?" he asked, distraught.

"Of course, I'm all right! See?" Alfonso responded.

The ambulance arrived after someone called 911 and took Alfonso to the hospital, where he received several stitches on his chin while being treated for the rest of his injuries.

The next day, Damien and Brock were sent to juvenile hall.

* * *

 _Year: 2182  
Location: The Citadel_

"Natalie," Eric said, entering the office. It had been a week since he made up his mind. "Remember I finished that application a few days ago?"

"I remember. Did it get through?" Natalie was on the terminal. The office was about the size of the kitchen, the window covering the entire wall to Eric's left. The L-shaped desk was at the corner, the top of it cluttered with said terminal and a cup of tea by it.

"Yeah, it did. And it was approved. All that's left is a physical check-up, but I have to do it at the Presidium." He let out a deep breath, nervous and uncertain. "I'm not sure I'm up for it. This whole Alliance military thing. I mean, I feel fine physically but—"

"Apart from almost drowning, you're perfectly healthy for a 19-year-old kid. Skinny but healthy. You'll be fine."

Eric tilted his head. "Maybe. I guess. Think you can order a transit from here?"

Natalie raised an eyebrow. "Figured Luke would take you there. Is he at work?"

"Yeah. You were probably asleep when he left. He wished me good luck, by the way."

She puffed her cheeks. It was almost like she had caught herself laughing. "Oh right. Serves me right for staying up all night on yet another case. Let me see what I can do."

Eric nodded and let Natalie do her thing on the terminal. He had to admit, he was pretty impressed she took less than a minute to order a transit here. Back in Boston on his world, he would have to wait at a bus stop. Considering the traffic, it took him a while to wait.

"There." Natalie turned to Eric. "The transit should be here in half an hour by Earth standards. In the meantime, you should pick some things you need. Also…"

And before he knew it, Natalie gave him a rather gentle hug. He smiled. "Thanks, Natalie. I appreciate it."

"No problem," Natalie replied. "Now you better get ready, then. You know how automated taxis work."

"I know, Nat. I remember what happened the last time."

Natalie chuckled. "I didn't expect you to call me Nat."

"Hey, that was a slip of the tongue. Besides, your husband started it," Eric insisted.

"I know. See you later. Hope it goes well for you."

And with that, Eric went to his bedroom. There wasn't much to it, in fact. Just a dresser with some clothes in it and a simple bed placed at the side. The room wasn't small, but it wasn't big like the office. He heard Natalie was expecting a child in several months. He understood why. When Eric did his duty to the Alliance, maybe he could study at a university and grab a degree. Maybe he could get married to the man he loved. And he thought of Garrett.

But his mind turned to what would lie ahead in a few years. The geth attack on Eden Prime and the Citadel, the Collector abducting human colonies, and the Reapers arriving at the galaxy to harvest civilization. When that happened, if he did get enlisted, he would have to serve on the frontlines and probably die for the cause.

And there was not a thing he could do about it.

 _No. It's a brand new day for you, Eric_ , the thoughts in his head told him. _Thinking that way would only let you down. Focus on the small things, just like Dad said. That's what matters now. You're stuck here for the rest of your life, so make use of what you got._

He got what little he had, grabbed his omni-tool and a blue Alliance uniform folded neatly on his dresser, and left the room.

* * *

"Enlist today!" the sign above the entrance to the white, monolithic building flashed these words. The words were bold, white, and in all-caps. Above the tagline was a human clad in full blue armor from head to toe, saluting with a curve-shaped file in hand. In the background of the holographic picture was an upside-down, V-shaped form enveloping over and around Earth.

"Now arriving at the Systems Alliance Navy Recruitment Center, Presidium," the skycar's VI announced with a cheery voice. "Enjoy your stay!"

The skycar's roof slid open, and Eric stepped out, onto a balcony several floors up above the lake. There was a tree not far from the rapid transit, the branches reaching around almost all around. It probably was planted here not long ago, and it came from Earth, judging by the pink flora growing out of each branch, maybe a country like Japan.

Then Eric started to feel… off. A wave of nausea hit him hard like a ton of bricks as the whole world spun around him.

If it weren't for a bulky arm wrapping around his belly, he would've stumbled around and landed on the floor with a hard thud. He turned around and recognized the man as his boyfriend, Garrett Pit.

Eric smiled as Garrett helped him up to his feet. His cheeks flushed red at the sight of his boyfriend. Sorry. Not to, err… sorry, sudden changes in gravity. I guess my body's not used to it yet."

"You gonna be all right?" Garrett asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm all right." Eric looked around, his eyes meeting with the pristine white floor before locking them at Garrett's gaze. "Um, by the way, that's an excellent grip you got there. Strong, firm. Oh, and your eyes are gorgeous. Blue like the sea. Or the sky, I suppose…"

Garrett chuckled. "You said that before."

Eric raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. "I did?"

"Yeah. Several times. And your rhyming's atrocious, by the way. Really terrible, in fact."

Eric stammered in his words before letting out a sigh. "Okay, yeah. Guess you have a point there. Let's, uh… forget this little thing happened. So what're you doing here, anyway?"

Garrett could only scoff and roll his eyes in, both in amusement and in exasperation. "My mom was in the Alliance Navy, remember?"

Eric pressed his lips together, feeling more than a little ashamed. He should know better than forgetting something that simple. Was it that simple, he wondered? "Oh. Duh. So you're here to enlist, then?"

"Yep. You too?"

Eric shrugged. "Luke and Natalie figured me enlisting would be easier for me to get to college. Part of an education program, they said."

Garrett clenched his teeth as he cringed. "Oh, peer pressure. Ouch. Well, we better get inside. If we stand here looking fabulous like in the movies, we'll miss that opportunity. C'mon."

Eric nodded, more than a little nervous, and stopped for a moment before catching up. There were two things on his mind. First, he noticed they were the only ones at the entrance. Either the others were inside, or there weren't a lot of people signing up. Maybe it could be both. The second and third options would be more likely; about three percent of the human population enlisted in the Alliance Navy.

He clutched Garrett's hand tightly.

"Something wrong?" a confused Garrett asked.

Eric exhaled deeply. "Crowds," he answered. "I _hate_ crowds." That was the second thing. "They smell, and there's little space to move in, and it's easy to get lost. That's why I hate crowds."

"Sounds like you have ochlophobia. That right?"

Eric said nothing as they stopped right next to the entrance. Garrett turned sharply toward him. The glare on his face was stern, yet understanding. He grabbed Eric's hands and held onto them gently.

"Eric, don't worry," Garrett stated, and Eric's eyes lit up, having his full attention. "We'll stick together and hold hands. Maybe that'll help."

Eric nodded, feeling relieved. "Yeah. My mom held my hand whenever I go through moments like this. I was a kid back then. It helped a lot."

"And uh…" Garrett glanced aside before continuing. "No matter what happens, I'll be with you, yeah?"

"Well, what if either or both of us dies?" Eric asked. "What would happen if we don't love each other anymore?"

Garrett shook his head. "No. No. don't think like that. Think positive at this moment. I love you, y'know." He grinned showing his clean, pristine teeth. "How 'bout a kiss? You know, for good luck."

Eric smiled, eager for a kiss. "Depends. Is it a quick one or are we making out like in the movies?"

Garrett tilted his left hand. "Eh, could go either way but I think we have enough time for a quick one. We good?"

He leaned down toward Eric and pressed his lips against Eric's. It was like he promised: a quick peck, but it was warm and sweet.

"Have you been brushing lately?" Eric smiled as the two parted.

"Yeah." Garrett smiled again and pointed at his teeth. "Miniaturized mass effect fields. They break up plaque and massages the gums quite nicely. Worth every credit."

"How much did it cost you exactly?"

"6,000. Birthday present from my aunt. Honest!"

"Sure you are," Eric chuckled and threw a weak punch on Garrett's shoulder. "Anyway, we spent more than enough time out here. Shall we?"

They went inside, entering a square shaped, light gray room. There were about a dozen or so young men and women, lined up by a desk at the end. The attendant was there, typing in information on his terminal. At the corner of the room, on Eric's left, was a keeper prying on a machine design for its four arms.

He let out a sigh, letting go of Garrett's hand as he activated his omni-tool. Maybe a quick game of Alliance Corsair would keep his mind off his anxieties.

"Hey," Garrett whispered in Eric's ear. "You might wanna pay attention to the line here."

"I can multitask," Eric shot back. He moved forward with the rest. His boyfriend was right behind him.

A flash of tawny skin and a young woman in skinny jeans walked by, mumbling about not being able to sign up due to a heart condition. The line started moving forward again. After several minutes and a quick playthrough, Eric finally got to the front of the desk. The receptionist, a blue-eyed man with peachy skin and a dark buzz cut, looked up at him from his terminal.

"Your name?" the receptionist asked.

"Eric. Eric Grimes."

"All right…" the receptionist tapped in Eric's name on the holographic keyboard. Shapes and letters formed up on the screen, and Eric could swear he saw a picture of himself a few weeks ago. He made sure to get himself a haircut back then. A clean cut, to be exact.

"Okay, you're ready to go," the receptionist announced. "Just head to the infirmary on my left."

Eric nodded and entered another room, just as pristine as the last. There were medical machines all around. After several minutes of physical examinations by the doctors, they told him he was in good health and sent him out. Garrett was next, of course, and had the same outcome. He was even in better shape than Eric. They told two to go to the docks, where a passenger liner would take him to the Recruit Training Depot in Brazil on Earth.

Earth. Eric had to admit, it was kind of weird going to a parallel version of his homeworld. Imagine finding a house much like your own. Same building and even the same layout of the street. However, it was in a different neighborhood, perhaps even in a different city or country altogether.

The more he thought about it, the more he missed his home.

At the port, there were dozens and dozens of ships of various design and origin, each connected to an airlock. Eric and Garrett looked for the right ship, one made by human hands. Eventually, they found one. It was as described by the receptionist from earlier: a large ship, shaped like an early-21st-century military jet. There was no one else standing by the bridge to the airlock, save for a single Alliance soldier clad in blue padded armor, similar to the figure from the poster.

Eric and Garrett approached the Alliance soldier. "Hey, excuse me," said Eric, catching the soldier's attention. "Does that ship take us to Macapá, Brazil? The Recruit Training thingy?"

"You mean the Depot?" the marine asked. "You two recruits?"

"Yeah. We just passed our physical exams," Garrett answered.

"Then head on through."

Eric thanked her. He and Garrett then went inside the ship's airlock. The room was rather small, about the size of a bedroom or a kitchen. He thought they were the only ones here until a swarm of people packed in.

Eric mentally counted about three dozen people here. It was unbelievable that so many people managed to squeeze in a small amount of space. You'd think the Alliance would give the recruits more room here so no one would be crushed to death.

A wall of light appeared and slowly swept over the room, passing through everyone as if they were nothing. Eric blinked, expecting to be blind for a second. "Equalizing exterior atmosphere with interior atmosphere." Its voice was feminine and stoic.

The air hissed, and the ventilation shafts covering the walls began their work. The wall of light disappeared soon as the atmosphere inside had equalized. The door in front of the crowd slid open, and everyone converged inside. Eric wasn't really surprised about the layout. It was like he had imagined what it would be like inside. It was similar to a civilian airplane from the 21st century, save for the floor being made of the same metal as the walls and ceiling.

The recruits sat in their seats as Eric and Garrett sat next to each other by a window at the back.

"So out of curiosity: ever traveled faster-than-light?" Garrett asked with a smile.

Eric arched a brow. "By using element zero to decrease a starship's mass, increasing its velocity? And that it blue-shifts?"

"Yep. Why'd you ask?"

Eric grinned, shifting his position. "Oh, nothing. Just looking forward to it."

The liner's thrusters roared to life as the airlock released the ship. It slowly ascended and turned away from the port before taking off. It zipped past hundreds of warfighters, freighters, and dreadnoughts in the pink space cloud, defending the Citadel station. The others that either wasn't defending it or were not part of any military force went to some other destination.

Eric was awed, his mouth gaping open, as he was looking to his right to the window and spotted one dreadnought that practically dwarfed the rest, including the liner. The smooth, coral-shaped giant of a ship was the Destiny Ascension. Not only was it the pride of the asari, but it was also the Citadel's flagship. He knew it was huge, having enough firepower to take out a whole fleet. He wouldn't imagine it would be humongous up close!

That ship and the asari's use of their influence in a way a horny teenager could understand reminded him why they were one of the most influential species in the galaxy.

The liner took a swift turn, and he faced a massive metallic object, a mass relay, just floating out there by itself, its arms reaching out in direction. At the center were two rings, shifting around a core of element zero.

The flagship and the Citadel became tiny dots in the pink cloud. Outside the ship, arcs of lightning enveloped around the ship. One moment, the ship was covered in a blue aura. The next thing Eric knew, there was a booming sound, and suddenly, they were in a different part of the galaxy. As he looked out the window once more, there was nothing but distant stars and forms of clouds and dust crashing into each other. Two of the clouds, one red and the other blue, mashed together to create a bright-purple cloud.

There were far more stars than he could count. He swore he saw galaxies as well, out there in the distance.

"We have arrived the Horsehead Nebula," one of the liner's pilots spoke through the PA. "Please remain seated as we will be making two more jumps till we reach the Sol system."

"Try not to squeal like last time," Garrett spoke in a somewhat annoyed tone.

Eric scoffed and smiled as he looked at his boyfriend. He wiggled around in his seat, having a bit of trouble containing his excitement. "I know. I just can't help myself. Good god, I'm such a nerd!"

"That you are, Eric. That you are."

Eric was just so happy to be on something that traveled at speeds faster than light, laughing in the face of what he knew of physics. It wouldn't have been out of the ordinary for anyone in this day and age, but not to him. If Einstein were alive, he would eat his heart out.

He couldn't help but compare how space travel worked to the Alcubierre drive. From what he read an article online, an Alcubierre drive could alter the space around the object, allowing said object to arrive at its destination faster than the speed of light. It relied on an exotic matter to configure its density field to negative mass, much like how element zero worked, preventing time dilation.

Yet he kept his excitement to himself.

Another jump and soon after, the liner passed by the dwarf planet Pluto, then past the gas planets Neptune and Uranus. It flew over Saturn's rings, which stretched out for thousands and thousands of miles. Eric knew Saturn would be massive—about 72,000 miles in its diameter—but Jupiter was even ginormous! Each of these gas giants dominated the view, and Eric could see the red storm raging near Jupiter's equator.

Eric found himself slack-jawed. He thought he trips between each relay was long, but the sheer size of these planets sure took the cake!

As the ship left the asteroid belt, Mars was in sight. There was a whole fleet of Alliance frigates patrolling the area. Lacking FTL sensors, they have to scout ahead to find any enemy ships jumping in.

Soon after passing by the red planet, what was at first a pale blue dot turned out to be Earth.

The ship entered its atmosphere, the hull protecting starship from heat upon entry along with any space junk nearby. The sun was fading behind the planet, and a large city by the coastline came into view. The pristine, newer skyscrapers had towered over the older, more worn out smaller buildings.

Both Eric and Garrett sat up with the rest of the passengers as the ship landed. They went to the airlock and waited as the atmosphere equalized. With that done, they left the ship. Soon, Eric was greeted with the hot and humid climate of the city.

They all entered a large, rectangular building with a dome-shaped sphere in the center. Eric wondered what to expect.

* * *

Eric sat at one of the tables, all by himself as he nibbled on his soft taco. The cafeteria had many tables, much like high school. It was vast and rectangular, the arching walls light-gray while the ceiling and the floor a darker shade. It was crowded with officers and recruits alike, all in different shapes, sizes, skin colors, and genders. He zoned out the noise and the indistinct chatter in the cafeteria. Still, the scent of food from the kitchen wafted about. He didn't touch his sliced pineapples.

Like many other recruits here, he was instructed to wait here until he was assigned to a bunker. Surveying the room, he didn't find Garrett anywhere. Garrett promised to meet him here at this spot. Maybe he got lost in the line somewhere, getting something good to eat.

He couldn't call out to Garrett, so he decided to turn on his omni-tool instead. Maybe a message should get his attention.

 _CosmosWiz (Eric Grimes): Are you here, Garrett? I can't find you anywhere._

 _RockyPlace2 (Garrett Pitt): Yeah just getting my meal. Lotta folks here_

 _CosmosWiz: Kay. I'll keep an eye out. Do you remember where we're sitting?_

 _RockyPlace2: Yeah_

 _CosmosWiz: I'll wave when I see you._

 _RockyPlace2: kk_

With that, Eric turned off his omni-tool and continued eating. He was almost done, only a bite or two away from finishing and his cup of fruit punch was half-full. He then heard someone sitting next to him. At first, Eric thought it was Garrett, but much to his astonishment, it was someone else. To his left was sitting a fair-skinned man with curly blond hair and a slender, hawkish face.

"Uh… you're not Garrett," said Eric.

"Obviously not." The man with an Australian accent placed his tray on the table. It had a bowl of spaghetti with chopped-up ground beef and a cup of orange juice at the side. "Name's Arthur Mallon. You?"

Eric was beginning to feel uncomfortable when Arthur jabbed him at the side with his elbow, so he scooted to his right. But Arthur was persistent, following him.

"What's th' matter? Am I botherin' you?" Arthur sneered.

"Yes. You're annoying." Eric didn't even give Arthur a glance.

"Am I?" It was obvious Arthur's gasp was fake. "I am so, _so_ sorry, I—What's that on your face?" He wiggled his finger at that question.

Before Eric knew it, Arthur lunged and smacked his face. He snatched his plate and raised it high above his head as he stood up.

"C'mon! You know the drill an' all!" When I tell ya to jump, you say 'how high?'"

Eric frowned, unamused, as he slowly stood up. "I'm almost done with my lunch, jackass." His calm tone betrayed the look on his face.

"Maybe you should eat a little faster, Shortstuff."

"Shortstuff? Seriously? I've been called worse." With that said, Eric snatched the rest of his meal and sat back down on one motion. He let out a smug grin, feeling victorious. If only Arthur could see his face right now…

"Hey!" Arthur sighed, dropping his shoulders as he put aside Eric's tray. "Nobody could take a joke."

He was ready to turn around and leave Eric alone, then bumped into a man much larger than him. Arthur gasped and jolted, for real this time, as he came face-to-face with Garrett, who was carrying a tray with a piece of steak and some vegetables on a plate.

"Hey, Garrett. Fancy meeting you here," Arthur stuttered. Eric arched an eyebrow upon hearing Arthur saying his friend's name. Several bystanders were observing nearby.

"You bothering my boyfriend?" Garrett asked, suspicious.

"No, I—" Arthur looked around and stopped to turn at an entourage of four, watching from another table nearby. He turned back at Garrett incredulously after calming himself down. "Boyfriend?" He smiled. "You have a boyfriend here? This is the military, not high school."

Garrett laughed. "Funny. I could say the same thing, with you harassing him."

"But I…"

Garrett leaned in closer to Arthur, his expression turning ugly. "Beat it. _Now_."

Arthur nodded frantically with fear in his eyes. "Okay. Yeah. Whate'er you say!" He grabbed his tray and set out to meet up with the four at the nearby table. He was obviously embarrassed if not humiliated.

"Asshole," Garrett muttered an angry aside to Arthur. He sat beside Eric, who was more than happy to see him.

"Hey there." Eric just finished his taco.

"Sorry 'bout that." Garrett began cutting into his steak with a fork and a knife. "Again, took me a bit to find a good meal."

"Not your fault," Eric replied. He paused before correcting himself. "Okay, it kinda was. By the way, Arthur seemed to recognize you. You knew him?"

Garrett continued eating. "Him? Yeah, I knew him," he answered after taking another bite. "He's been a pain in the ass since junior high."

"I thought you said you came from Benning."

"I was born there," said Garrett. "I never said I live there all my life."

Eric nodded, now getting the message.

Garrett noticed the bundle of sliced pineapples on a small plate. "You gonna eat that?"

Eric waved him off and scoffed. "I'm getting to that, thanks."

Garrett stopped and rested his arms on the table. He looked at Eric, straight in the eye, and said, "Look, I've noticed you haven't been eating much lately. If he bothers you again, I'll back you up. Okay?"

Eric nodded again, looking back with a genuine smile. "Yeah, I appreciate that."

The PA mounted at a corner of the room beeped and crackled with sound. "Eric Grimes," a man's voice spoke from the speaker. "Eric Grimes, you've been assigned to Bunker Seven. Follow the green lights in the hallway."

Eric sighed, curling his lips in exasperation. "Y'know what? You can have my pineapple slices." He sat up with his now empty tray after chugging down his drink. "I better get going."

His boyfriend blinked in confusion. "Okay, sure. See ya."

After placing his tray in the trash bin nearby, he followed a trail of green lights on the floor in the hallway, flickering in a particular direction, pointing him to where he was needed to go. He couldn't help but think back to the time he saw the Ender's Game movie.

As he walked down the hallway, passing by the first two rooms before a large window caught his eye. Outside, the sky was growing a darker shade of blue over the city of Macapá. The lights from the buildings and skyscrapers hid the stars in the heavens.

He continued walking in the light-gray hallway and found a blue seven painted next to the door. This must be Bunker Seven unless he stumbled onto a different room with a number slapped on it somehow. But now this would be his new home for a while.

The green light sounded, and the door slip opened. Eric entered inside.

The bunker had no windows, with bright artificial lights mounted in lines on the ceiling. As the name would imply, there were eight bunk beds with steel frames, four at each side of the room. The beddings look simple yet comfortable: a dark-gray blanket with a white pillow.

He was not the only occupant here. There were six other people in the room, wearing the same blue Alliance uniform as he was.

One of the three other men sat up and noticed Eric entering, the door closing behind him. He was pale, tall, and lean with short red hair, small beady eyes, and a square face.

"So, you're our new bunkmate?" he asked with a Scottish accent. "What's your name, fella?"

"It's Eric." Eric was hesitant as he sat on the nearest bed. "Eric Grimes."

"Well. Name's Elijah Brodie," the Scottish young man answered.

Eric waved. "Who are the others here?"

"Ami Kato." The Japanese woman was standing next to Elijah. Her dark hair went down at the top of her neck. Her round facial features and large eyes gave her a boyish look. "It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Alban Adler." A dusky-skinned man lied down on the top bed at the corner, playing a game of Solitaire on his omni-tool. His voice was brass and deep, having an Egyptian accent. "Pleasure to make an acquaintance."

A short, well-built man with tawny-beige skin and reddish-brown eyes turned away from a footlocker by the middlemost bed. "Hi! Name's Bristol Piers," he said with a rather enthusiastic British accent. Despite the offer to shake Eric's hand, he refused. "Though fair warning: don't talk to me about Harry Potter. I never get to hear the end o' it."

Two more women were leaning on a wall at Eric's right. The peach-skinned one with broad shoulders and thick biceps was gazing at a Mongolian woman with a loving smile on her face. The Mongolian woman had Turkish features: her skin mellow-brown, dark brown eyes, and short, wavy black hair.

"Oh, uh…" The heavily muscled woman had a Russian accent. She looked away from the other woman in embarrassment, her cheeks flushing red. "I'm Vera Alkaev, and this is—"

"Melek Sadik. Or Mel for short," the Mongolian-Turkish woman finished. "I apologize for our behavior. We…"

"You women should get some privacy!" Alban called out.

Melek stared daggers at the Egyptian man before meeting her eyes with Vera's. "Yes. We _are_ in love. Also, I'm here because she and I have nowhere else to turn to."

Eric blinked at the statement. "I can relate."

Elijah's forearm suddenly glowed orange as he raised his arm to his chest. He smiled like a devil. "Anyone up for a game of Alliance Corsair? Bet none of you can beat me in a deathmatch."

"Oh hell, I'm in!" Alban bolted and jumped down from his bed with a flashy smile on his face. "Challenge accepted!"

Vera came in with her omni-tool on. "Why not celebrate? We will have all night before orientation, no?"

Eric was zoning out despite the others finding fun and relating. He stared at a wall in front of him with a blank look on his face. He didn't even react to anything until Ami sat next to him.

"Are you okay, Eric?"

Eric gasped. "Yeah, I'm…" he sighed and lowered his head to the floor. "Not sure I should be thrilled about this. Just second thoughts."

"Likewise," said Ami her hands resting on her knees. "But we'll all get through this, yeah?"

"Then what?"

"I have no idea. _Ku areba raku ari_."

Eric tilted his head toward Ami, perplexed. "Huh? I think my translator just glitched."

"It means there are hardships and there are delights," Ami answered.

Eric gestured. "And…?"

"My aunt told me that, whenever I do chores for her. I don't like them when I was a child, but I do them anyways. And do you know what I get in return?"

"What?"

"I get respect. With it, the freedom to do what I want with my life, and the responsibility that follows."

Eric said nothing. He reached down and opened the footlocker, grabbing a pair of pajamas. "You mind? I had a rough day."

Ami sat up, curling her mouth in a concerned fashion. "What happened?"

"Some asshole tried to take my food. But it's done. Over. I just want to sleep, okay?" Eric's voice was coarse.

Ami frowned but slightly bowed in respect before joining with the other bunkmates.

With no one eyeing him, Eric changed into his pajamas. He fitted and folded his uniform inside the footlocker and landed on the bottom bed with a thud. Wrapping the blanket around him, his eyelids grew heavy.

Time slipped by. Indistinct chatter was followed by everyone else going to their bunks for the night. The mattress above him creaked. The light darkened, and soon everyone fell asleep.

 _Should I send Natalie a message?_ Eric thought before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

It was a city, dull and featureless. It had no billboards plastered with advertisements, no graffiti covering the walls, and no trains trailing on the rails as the boxcars would rattle left and right. There weren't any doors or windows for any of the monolithic buildings. In fact, there weren't any power plants churning out smog or solar panels or windmills laid about. The air was stale and quiet.

Both the sky and the ground were a white void. It was a miracle Eric managed to stand on his own two feet. Those were not the only things that threw him off balance. The people were blank. Faceless. No eyes, mouth, ears, or nose. They were naked, yet they had nothing to expose them. They were all the same size and shape as if they came off a bathroom sign.

The footsteps around Eric were quiet, and everyone, including him, was traveling down a winding path, twisting and turning in impossible directions. He became sick in his stomach when he found himself upside down like he was on a roller coaster slowly grinding forward. A soon as he stepped on the flat ground, more of these 'people' came in, and everything became crowded.

He couldn't breathe. The air was still stale.

The crowd continued to grow, stretching out for miles upon miles as they closed in on their destination: a large, circular tunnel not unlike the ones leading to the subway stations in New York City. Yet it was foreboding somehow, and he didn't like it.

Suddenly, he heard voices in his head and with it came an unbearable headache. Falling to his knees, he grunted as he held his head to fight off the pain. The voices—the whispers—were incomprehensible, all speaking at once. Everyone else ignored him.

Then the pain received along with the whispers. They were becoming familiar to him.

Eric turned to his right, a random direction. Surely enough, his heart leaped with joy as he met his brother. Long dark hair and hazel eyes, a scar on his chin, and a video game-inspired T-shirt and black shorts.

"Al!" Eric's voice echoed as he stood up and bolted to his brother, only for him to ignore Eric as he passed by with the others. Alfonso didn't even glance at him. And just like that, he was gone. Eric's heart sank.

Someone bumped into him. He turned and gazed at Natalie passing by without a word. His mother also walked by, then his grandfather, and then his boyfriend. Finally, his father marched in like a soldier would, wearing his tan-and-gray military uniform. His face still bore the signs of age and weariness. Like everyone else, he disappeared into the crowd.

A large shadow loomed over him. Eric found himself standing at the entrance to the tunnel. The featureless crowd went down into the darkness, never to be seen again.

There were large security cameras mounted on the tunnel's walls, watching everyone's moves. They swung their outstretched necks on every individual, including him. There was a crimson flash on each of their spectacles.

As the cameras focused on him, Eric couldn't bring himself to act. He wasn't afraid or shocked, really. He felt nothing. Something forced him to move, one step after another into the tunnel.

Blackness engulfed him.


	6. Interlude: Does God Play With Dice?

_I've been playing (and streaming) Mass Effect: Andromeda and it spurred me into writing this interlude. Given that I haven't written much in a while, I believe this should give me that pick-me-up for writing stuff._

* * *

 **Interlude: Does God Play With Dice?**

 _Year: 2182, before Alliance training  
Location: Zakera Ward, the Citadel_

The red and blue lights washed over the dance floor. Loud techno music, the current trend recently, boomed out of the wall-mounted speakers all over the room. People of many known sentient species danced to the beat as if tomorrow would never come.

Meanwhile, in a corner, Eric sat at one of the tables by himself. He wasn't a fan of loud noises or parties in general, but his boyfriend insisted that he had to go. He was allowed to drink alcoholic beverages here at the Dark Star Lounge, being 19 years old, but it wouldn't feel right to him, being raised in America. He also wasn't in the mood for gambling.

"Excuse me," a woman called out with an accent. If Eric had to guess, the woman was Scottish.

He looked up from his omni-tool to a light-brown-skinned woman with short reddish hair, a square face, and bright green, rounded eyes. Her red-and-white garbs told him she either was a scientist or a doctor of some sort. She carried a glass full of purple juice in her hand.

"Yeah?" Eric asked. While the woman's lips moved, he had difficulty hearing what she said, no thanks to the music. "Sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Is it all right if I sit here for a minute?" she asked, a little louder this time.

Eric pursed his lips. His first instinct told him to say no, but he remembered Garrett not minding him hanging out with other people if they don't start kissing. Plus, Eric explicitly recalled Garrett not taking a spot. What was the harm, he asked himself?

"Go ahead." Eric turned off his omni-tool and rested his arms on the table, his attention focused on the woman.

A broad smile appeared on the Scot's face. "Oh, thank you so much!" She sat across from him and relaxed, her drink on the table. "My name's Dr. Suvi Anwar. What's yours?"

"Eric Grimes. So you're a doctor?"

"A scientist, actually," Suvi grinned. "I studied all sorts of things. Astrophysics and molecular biology are my specialties, so I look at things like planetary scans and various soil samples."

Someone let out a loud bellow. Suvi looked around for the cause, only to find Garrett across the room, surrounded by people. With a shit-eating grin and his arms high above his head, he danced around like he owned the place.

"Is that…?"

"My boyfriend," Eric finished, not bothering to take a gander himself. He rolled his eyes in a mix of bemusement and annoyance. "Anyway, that's pretty cool. That kinda makes the universe wonderful, huh?"

Suvi sipped her drink. "Indeed. Not just Prothean sites, but all of it. Every day, we find something new and alien, and yet the Milky Way's a tiny part of the universe. It's like… it's a constant reminder of the divine intelligence is behind all of creation."

Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise. "So you believe in a god?"

"Yes! I believe in a higher power. I know it's a little odd in this day and age," Suvi said. "But I am a scientist because science brings us all closer to something greater than ourselves."

Eric smiled. He was jealous of the things she had learned. At the same time, it was nice to talk to someone who could share his own beliefs to an extent. "I kinda think the same thing, too. It's a long story." He shrugged. "Still, it's not every day I get to meet someone like you."

"Same here! I had to justify myself so often as if my search for truth would invalidate my beliefs."

"Nah. It doesn't. Not really," Eric reassured her. "But out of curiosity, when did you start believing in God?" He hoped it wasn't intrusive of him.

"My parents were both scientists," Suvi answered. "My home was ruled by rationality. So when I grew up…" She paused.

"…let's just say that while other kids listen to batarian music, I found God."

Eric did his best to hold back his laughter but it began to crack through his now-forming smile. He put his hand over his mouth to hide that fact. "Wait, hold on. Did you say batarian music? I mean… that's really a thing, right?"

Suvi laughed as well. "Oh goodness, yes! It was obviously rare outside the batarian territories. I tried it one time and, well… it was a miracle I didn't get tinnitus."

Eric leaned back, craning his neck back after laughing for several seconds. In his blissfulness, he thought about what Suvi said. "If calculus was the language of God, then quantum mechanics was His canvas," he recited.

The scientist gasped, her hand on her chest. "Wow, that's poetic."

Eric shook his head as he leaned forward. "It's something a friend of mine came up with, really."

Something beeped from Suvi's omni-tool. "I have to go. My colleagues need me to wrap up a project," she said after glancing at her omni-tool on her left arm. She stood up. "Maybe we can talk later?"

"Got anything we can contact each other on?"

"Yes," said Suvi. "I'll give you my extranet address." She flicked a quick command before turning the omni-tool off. "There. It's great to meet you."

"Yeah. See you later," Eric replied, waving.

And with that, Suvi walked down and left the bar. Garrett passed by soon after with drinks in hand. He eyed the scot before sitting down at the table.

"Made a friend?" Garrett asked.

Eric smiled warmly. "Guess you can say that."


	7. Chapter 6: Life in Transition

**Chapter Six: Life in Transition**

 _The first day…_

Breakfast was, for the most part, uneventful. Eric ate some cereal—Honey Nut Flakes—while his bunkmates in the cafeteria chatted about they did before enlisting here and why they joined. Come to think of it, Eric noticed he hadn't seen Arthur anywhere. Eric was thankful for it, sure, but he couldn't help but wonder if Arthur was just too scared to confront him after yesterday's incident. He hoped that was the case.

As if on cue, he was called to the infirmary. It was the same procedure as before: follow the green light on the floor. As if he had anything better to do.

Inside the whitewashed room, the floor the ceiling and the walls surrounding him was a bunch of empty seats and beds. There were health monitors at each bed whereas the seats strongly resembled the ones at Red Cross facilities. Upon making that comparison, Eric winced and recalled the time he passed out when he donated blood for the first time.

There was a man with dark-brown hair in a white lab coat standing by a desk, his skin a warm beige. He turned away from an orange screen mounted on the desk, showing an angular face with a crooked mouth and thin nose. His ears were rather floppy and wide.

"Hey, mornin'." The man smiled and waved. "Dr. Bales. I presume you're Eric Grimes?" Eric nodded in response. With that, he stood up and looked over at a machine by a nearby chair. "Here for your gene enhancement? Hope it's not as humiliating as your haircut. You had a haircut, right?"

"My hair's pretty short enough as it is." Eric curled his mouth. "Anyways, so what needs to be done?" Back home, the ethics behind the use of gene enhancement was heavily debated, exploring the potential for good for humanity. It would eradicate diseases, make people healthier, get rid of genetic defects, and slow down or even stop aging altogether. On the other hand, enhancements could be exploited, either the rich keeping it for themselves or by totalitarian regimes to create super soldiers.

But here, as far as he knew, genetic enhancement was a non-issue. The use of it was widespread, too, mainly for modifying and enhancing genes, as the name would imply. But not to add new effects.

"It involves epigenetics." Dr. Bales placed a syringe in one of the seat's machinery. "Do you know what it is?"

"Um…" Eric squinted his eyes as he snapped his fingers together. "It's something to the effect of hacking our genetic code. That right?"

"That's the tip of the iceberg," said the doctor, nodding along. "It's also where individual genes can be turned off or on. This shot I just installed…" he tapped at the syringe in the machine's blocky arm. "…will enhance your genes responsible for things like your hand-eye coordination. Your body can also take in greater amounts of protein, which means that your muscle mass can develop at a faster rate. On the downside, you'll have to eat more often because of a higher metabolism."

Eric winced again. _Always the damn syringes._ "Okay, how much would my metabolism burn?" he asked, hoping to stay focused.

Dr. Bales curled his lips, thinking. "About 3,000 calories for the average soldier. As for biotics, they tend to consume around a thousand or so more." Then he noticed Eric's nervousness by how he was looking away and how his hands were fidgeting.

He sighed. "Eric, I understand you're not really thrilled about it. Every patient I've talked to, they're not thrilled about it either, but they go through with it. You know what happens after you take this shot?"

Eric nodded. "A sore arm," he remarked. "It'll hurt like hell, though."

"Pretty much." The Alliance doctor shrugged off with a hearty chuckle. "Okay, so… just relax, and everything will be okay. It's not like you're getting shot. By someone with a gun."

Eric gave the doctor a dirty look. "That's not helping, y'know."

"Sorry."

Eric sat and laid back in the comfy leather chair. More than comfortable, in fact, small vibrations traveled down his back. Dr. Bales inputted a command on the machine's screen. The arm whirred and whined to life and plunged the syringe into Eric's left shoulder. For a moment, it hurt like hell, as the needle was burrowed into his muscles like an ant digging a hole.

After a few long seconds, it was over. The machine drew the syringe away, and the good doctor applied a tiny amount of medi-gel to seal the wound. Aside from his arm being sore, he didn't feel any different. Like vaccines, the effects of the gene enhancement would develop over time.

"And done. Was that so bad?"

Eric sat up from the chair with a sigh of relief. "Thanks." He shook Dr. Bales' hand and went to the exit.

"Don't forget that Basic Training starts tomorrow."

Eric turned and looked back at him as the door parted open. "Yeah, I know." He nodded almost bitterly. He wasn't looking forward to it, but he'll have to grit his teeth and bear with it.

* * *

 _The first week…_

Eric's heart raced. He could hear his blood come rushing in as he stepped into the firing range. He wasn't looking forward to screwing up in front of people.

The walls around him were clean and whitewashed, the floor a metallic shade of gray. The bright lights on the ceiling and the walls gave him the idea the Alliance had ripped Apple off.

He and a few dozen other recruits as their brunette, tawny-beige-skinned instructor lecturing them about how to handle a gun. Specifically, a pistol.

"This here is a Kessler pistol, made by Hadre-Kedar." The instructor had an accent, though Eric couldn't point what exactly. It sounded Asian. The compact, black-and-gray pistol rested in her palms as she circled around the room, showing it to each of the recruits. Some of them oohed as the leaned in closer.

"It takes about eighteen shots, give or take, before it overheats," she continued. "The Kessler pistol is a fairly accurate and reliable sidearm. It's an ideal weapon for any military personnel, ranging from your common soldier to a techie to even a biotic. Anyone who happens to be a biotic, please raise your hands, and then the person standing next to you with the power of your mind."

A few of them laughed.

"Allow me to demonstrate how to use it."

The instructor walked to one of the firing range spots and pressed a flashing green button on the side. A short distance away, a tile from the ceiling slid open, and a target descended. It was a typical silhouette with white circles on its chest and a red dot at the center.

The instructor gripped the pistol in both hands, her finger alongside the trigger. Her left foot was in front with her right foot back, her elbows slightly bent, and her back was straight. She fired one shot, which hit the target close to the center. Then she shot four more times in rapid succession, each one close to the center.

With that finished, she placed the pistol on a nearby table and turned around to them. "Anybody wanna volunteer?"

No one uttered a word or even budge a step.

"Anyone?" She shrugged a little, surprised.

Eric sighed and rolled his eyes. Apparently, he _had_ to do it. He stepped forward. The instructor pressed the button again, replacing the bullet-ridden target with a fresh one.

She handed the pistol over to him. "Now, before you do something stupid—"

A shot rang out as the gun slipped out of Eric's hand. It clattered on the floor. Eric grunted in pain as he rubbed his wrist. The shot only hit the target in the groin area.

"Nice shootin', Tex!" someone commented.

Some of them stifled their laughs, not wanting to incur the instructor's wrath upon them. All he could do was look around and give out a little smirk.

"My finger slipped," he admitted.

The instructor crossed her arms with a frown on her face, unamused by the notion.

"I joke as much as anyone else, but do you all think this is a laughing matter?" The instructed faced the group and the ones laughing stopped. Even the smirk on Eric's face went away as he stood up straight.

"N-no, ma'am!" Eric answered. "I meant no disrespect!"

The instructor turned towards him. "Good. If you can't handle a gun properly, you might as well get killed on the battlefield. Understand?"

Eric gulped, nodding. His hands shook, his wrist still hurting from the gun's recoil. At least the pain was slowly receding.

 _What would Papa think of me, here in the military screwing up?_ He lowered his head in shame. He had to remind himself of his family again…

"Um… can I go to the restroom?" he asked.

The instructor curled her lips before nodding. "Thirty minutes."

Eric wasted no time getting out of the room, zipping past the instructor and the other recruits.

He passed by anyone in spite their posts of him running in the hallway, making a beeline for the nearest restroom. Once inside the recently-cleaned room. He looked around. No one stood at the urinals, no one inside the stalls. It was silent here. No water dripping in the sinks, no pipes tapping inside the walls. He was all alone here.

He looked at the time on his omni-tool. "Twenty minutes," he muttered.

He walked over to one of the sinks, as if in a daze, and stared at the mirror mounted on the dark-gray wall. Instead of dark hair reaching past his ears, it was a crew cut, a few days fresh. That wasn't the only thing different about him.

Upon pulling his lower eyelid down, he noticed a red line developing in the middle of his right eye. Even on a good day, Eric had difficulty sleeping. Not since he got separated from his family.

He lowered his head, his hands planted on the edges of the sink, thinking over the instructor's words.

" _If you can't handle a gun, you might as well get killed on the battlefield._ "

His arms began to shake. "Dios mío, I'm not cut out for military stuff," he said to his reflection, his voice starting to break. "I'm not sure if I'm good at _anything_ , really." He paused before looking up in the mirror. "I only got good grades in high school because I got lucky. I screw up a lot, and me slipping up on using a pistol cements that. I could've gotten myself, or anyone hurt. Maybe killed. I got chewed out for it." He shrugged. "Guess I deserved it." He slowly wheeled his head around like a barrel. "I couldn't find a way back home. Hell, I'm not even sure if that orb's there, at Angkor Wat." He sniffed, holding back tears.

He leaned forward, his eyes now welling up as his cheeks turned pink. "Please, God... You created my universe—maybe this one, too." He locked his fingers together and rested them against his forehead. "Would it hurt to help out someone as small and insignificant as me?" He hated getting desperate like this.

Nothing.

He threw his arms back, scoffing. "Figures."

Something chimed from his omni-tool.

The sound continued as he turned his omni-tool on. A line going across the middle of a screen above his forearm vibrated in response to a voice coming from the other end.

"Hey, hey, Eric!" It was Luke.

Eric cursed, startled. "Look this is a bad time."

"What's goin' on?" Luke asked, concerned.

"First off, I'm in a restroom. Second—"

"Shit, sorry." Eric heard Luke puffing his cheeks and sighing. "Want me to call you back later?"

Eric paused, staring off at a wall to his right with a sullen look. "Actually, I just…" He sighed. "I just had a shitty start of a day."

"Everybody has a bad day every now and then," Luke replied. "Hell, I have some myself. Some worse than others. Some of it was funny in hindsight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Luke responded. "It's pretty obvious you're still having it rough at the academy. First few weeks of training were hell for me, believe me. Yet, I still persisted." He paused before continuing. "Lemme guess, is that what you're going through right now?"

"You could say that," Eric answered, hesitant.

"Look, not everybody succeeds on their first try," Luke said. "You'll make it through this, no matter what. You got your boyfriend with you, y'know. It was my idea and all. And he would hate to see you like this."

Eric scoffed. "Oh c'mon, he wasn't with me right now," he shot back.

Luke let out a small chuckle. "Well, still. You know what I mean, man. Just take care of yourself, okay? I don't want to see you all burned out."

"Yeah, okay. And thanks for the talk," Eric responded.

"Anytime." There was some other noise. It was somewhat inaudible, but after a bit, it was clear it was Natalie saying something. "Crap, gotta go!"

With that, Eric said goodbye and ended the link. He checked the time on his omni-tool, only for his eyes to widen.

"Dios mío! Five minutes?!" He muttered and made a beeline back to the shooting range.

When he made it back, he found most of the other recruits were already firing at their targets. He should consider himself fortunate these firearms weren't as loud as the guns back in his own universe, now he thought about it.

The instructor was waiting by an empty booth, her arms crossed with a look nothing short of serious.

"You barely made it on time," she warned as Eric approached the booth. "Better get a move on with your break next time, soldier."

"Yes, ma'am!" Eric whipped up a salute. "Won't be a problem."

Before Eric could grab the gun, the instructor asked, "Do you understand why I was so harsh on you?"

He didn't answer.

Her expression remained unchanged. "Because what I'm trying to teach you is important. I was trying to help you. It's not like a game where you die and respawn or reload from an earlier save, or a movie where the good guy does something stupid and lives to tell the tale. You're not a cowboy. You're becoming a soldier. It's best to act like it. Understand?" Her tone was less harsh than before.

"Yes. I understand," Eric acknowledged.

He lifted the gun and aimed down the sight. His arms went straight in front of him, his footing even. The instructor noticed this and corrected his stance to match her's from earlier, except his right foot was in front, as he was right-handed. The way she did it reminded him of his father showing him how to hold a gun at a firing range not far from home. "This is the modified Weaver stance. We've been using it for centuries, to reduce the recoil of each shot. No reason to change it, in my opinion. Call me old-fashioned."

Eric steadied his aim as he exhaled sharply. "Think I'm ready, ma'am?"

"You look ready," the instructor said with a nod.

With a confident look, he fired the pistol three times. One hit the left shoulder, the second below the neck and closer to the center, and the third in the head. It was then his smile faded and he was about ready to drop his head in disappointment.

The instructor curled her lips. She wasn't angry, but she wasn't satisfied either, though in an understanding way. "Don't beat yourself up over it, despite what happened with that screw-up of yours. Not everyone nails it on the first few tries. With enough practice, you'll go far. Everybody does."

She turned back to the other recruits as Eric continued firing, abet slowly to make sure got it right this time.

* * *

 _The first month…_

A right hook had left Eric's face exposed, and a fist collided with it, sending him backward toward the edge of the platform as his head twisted to the left. His brain rattled from the impact he stumbled, dazed.

It was hand-to-hand-combat training, and Eric thought he had it rough when he struggled through the obstacle course the other day. Many of the cadets here were placed into groups of pairs. Unfortunately for Eric, he happened to be paired with Arthur Mallon.

He stood back up, his fists up and his left foot up front. His face twisted into a scowl as Arthur looked back with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"C'mon, I dare ya!" Arthur beckoned.

It was almost tempting to wipe that smile off the bastard's face. For weeks, Eric had to endure with Arthur's behavior. Annoying pranks like being slapped after being misdirected, witnessing Arthur's disruptive attitudes, and shoving round in the hallway between training sessions. Every time Arthur was seemingly disciplined by his superiors, he always happened to bounce back. And here Arthur said this was a military training facility, not high school.

Eric took a deep breath; he had to focus. He put up an attempt at a defensive stance, both of his wrist blocking his view. If he struck first again, Arthur would easily deflect that blow as well.

All mirth faded away from Arthur's face as he readied his combat stance. "Fine, your funeral." Unlike Eric's, he put his left palm close to his face, his right arm stretching forward.

He charged, and Eric found himself overwhelmed by the barrage of punches and kicks. Every time he blocked or deflected Arthur's strike, his arms hurt and ache more and more. He nearly stumbled twice when he was once again near the edge of the platform, skirting by the ropes. Was he here to show what he learned or did he sign up for a boxing match?

Out of nowhere, a heavy weight slammed against Eric's side. He let out a gasp, his eyes becoming wide as his lungs tried to suck the air back in. he grabbed one of the ropes to maintain his balance and gazed at Arthur's risen leg.

"Told ya," he grinned and approached Eric. "You left your tummy open."

Eric blinked and heaved. Was it just him or did Arthur grew half a foot all the sudden?

Never mind that, he told himself and leaped at Arthur. He ducked a right hook and wrapped his arm around Arthur's shoulders from behind. His opponent grunted and struggled, grabbing Eric's arms but it was too late for him. Eric dragged him to the ground face down. In a swift motion, Eric twisted his right arm, keeping him in place.

Even Eric surprised himself. He couldn't believe he could pin a man bigger than him down, let alone anyone, really. He was breathing hard, covered in sweat like a blanket around him, and his entire body shook. He wanted this done.

"Ready to give up?" Eric asked through clenched teeth.

Arthur grumbled and nodded, now seeing defeat.

One of the instructors nearby tapped his omni-tool and approached the ring.

"Al lright, you two. That's enough." The instructor's Middle-Eastern accent was clear. He climbed up and prompted Eric to let Arthur go. With that done, Arthur crawled up to his knees and turned, his bruised face fuming red.

"Need help?" Eric bent down and offered a hand. As much as he hated the prick, he couldn't bring himself to stripe Arthur more of his dignity. He didn't see himself as that kind of person.

That moment of sympathy was in vain, as Arthur swiped away his hand and went up to his feet. He marched past them, leaving the ring without saying a word.

"Wha… what was that for?" Eric asked, confused.

The instructor stopped him. "That match was pretty rough. You should check up at the medbay."

"What about him?!" Eric protested as he watched Arthur ready to leave. "If he could so _kindly_ explain to me what his beef with me is, that'll be nice!"

Arthur came to an abrupt stop and looked over his shoulder, frowning. "Fine. You wanna know so bad?" He turned around with daggers in his eyes. "I'll tell you why: Remember when Garrett came up to me last month and I was a wreck? Well, he was my friend. Over the past several months, he couldn't shut the fuck up about you!" He gestured with his hands and his arms several times, his voice rising. "He's obsessed! He was my only friend, and you took him away from me, you motherfucker!"

He went forward, tears streaming down his face, only for what presumably to be two of his friends holding him back. "I want him back!" he repeated several times. It took several moments for his friends to let him go.

He dropped his shoulders and said nothing for a moment.

"There. Satisfied, you prick?" He smiled, obviously hiding his anger.

Eric could only drop his jaw to the floor as Arthur and the others left the room, stomping all the while. "That's it? Jealousy as an excuse?" He uttered a Spanish curse, also leaving the ring as he shook his head. "So unbelievable!"

He turned to the instructor. "You heard this, right?!" he asked, pointing at the exit.

"Yeah, loud and clear," the instructor replied. "Want me to notify our superiors?"

Eric nodded without looking back. It wasn't like Arthur would stop being an asshole anytime soon, but it should be worth a try.

* * *

 _Three months later…_

Eric's eyes fluttered open, his head resting on the left window. He straightened up, the smudge from his breath vanishing in an instant.

"Rise and shine, handsome," Garrett smiled, looking at him with a warm smile, suitable for the weather. He had squeezed in the back, sitting to the right of Eric with Luke and Natalie up front. Over Garrett's casual overalls was a black jacket with a fluffy hood.

Eric yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Huh? How long did I sleep for?"

"Not that long."

"Really? Weird. Dios, it felt like _forever_ since I slept that well."

Luke laughed as he turned to face Eric. "That must've been a hell of a nap you got there!"

"I'll bet," Eric agreed.

The engine hummed softly as the skycar flew above the snowy wetlands. The sky above was spotty with thick clouds all about, like anyone would see a pattern on a cheetah or a Dalmatian. Eric wasn't wrapped on the current events in Cambodia, he wasn't certain if his universe's counterpart went down a similar path. As far as he knew, there were a series of riots and wars revolving around its integration with the Chinese People's Federation.

"Lucky for you, you slept through most of the trip," Natalie said, driving the skycar. "We're almost to the temple."

Not long before completing his basic training, Eric learned why the conversation short from three months ago was cut short because Natalie was pregnant. With twins, in fact; they were due in June next year.

 _A card wouldn't be a bad idea. It'll be a nice thing to do_ , Eric considered at the time. He should make a mental note of it.

He looked outside and spotted a series of structures just out in the distance, larger than any monument of the ancient world he had ever seen. The closer the vehicle went, the more imposing those structures became, especially with the sandstone towers from the center casting a great shadow from the south.

Eric noticed several additional buildings surrounding the temple. They weren't there the last time he had been to the temple. The newer ones shared that same slick, monolithic design from the Citadel, the older ones blocky and egalitarian. What was more was the additional people below, likely going about their business. A few of them were even members of other species, mainly turians.

The temple had outlasted the empire that built it along with countless wars that followed. With numerous restoration teams at work over many years, they ensured it would endure for many more years to come.

 _Incredible how things remain the same, no matter what changed_ , Eric mused to himself. _Too bad that'll likely be wiped away by the Reapers._

People argued that Angkor Wat should be the eighth wonder of Earth. After all these years, Eric would still agree.

The vehicle landed by a café. Eric stepped out with the others, only to stop when his head wheeled in a dizzying motion. A wave of memories and the emotions that came with them flooded into his mind.

His brother kicking in the dirt, exchanging quips and jokes with his sister. Family photos were taken by the bridge to the temple. Exploring the temple, seeing the sights.

And the orb. Bright lights emitting from the translucent object. Eric screaming as a jolt of electricity coursed through his body. He could it, echoing in his mind.

His heart ached, his head throbbing. He missed his family. Their hopes and dreams crushed with him gone. No moments of them being proud of him at MIT. Nothing to show off his education and knowledge.

Why did Natalie and Luke bring him here? He told himself he could handle it after of months of grueling exercises and training at an Alliance facility.

"Eric? Eric!" A hand on his shoulder.

Eric came to and gasped, turning at Natalie with a blank look.

"You were just standin' around, staring at that temple," Garrett said, the worry in his voice palpable. "Is something the matter?"

Eric breathed, steadying his heart rate. He realized he had experienced an episode of déjà vu. He should be ashamed of himself. He thought he could get over it, as time could heal all wounds. "Yeah. Yeah." He blinked a few times, his lips pressing together. "Let's just get something to eat for lunch. Or breakfast. Time zones, right?"

He paced past the others and entered the café at a moment's notice, ignoring the scent of grease lingering in the air. He slumped on the nearest unoccupied seat available and waited. He whipped out a set of earpieces and turned on some music from his omni-tool, drowning out the chatter around him.

Electric guitar riffs. David Bowie singing.

 _I, I will be king_

 _And you, you will be queen_

 _Though nothing, will drive them away_

 _We can beat them, just for one day_

 _We can be heroes, just for one day_

"Oh yeah, that's the stuff," Eric muttered to no one and smiled.

At the corner of his eye, he saw a waiter with a screen from his omni-tool on hand. He mouthed off something, probably asking him for his order. He said nothing, nodding slowly as if in tune. The waiter sighed, irritated at the lack of response, and walked away.

He relaxed, slumped backward, and closed his eyes with a deep sigh. His mind began to drift away as if it wanted to get away from a bad place. The music helped him a little.

A hand tapped on his shoulder. He turned around and saw a rather worried Luke by his spot, flanked by Garrett and Natalie. Luke gestured to Eric to remove some imaginary object out of his ear. It took him a few seconds to realize Luke was referring to his earbuds. He paused his music and removed said earbuds as Luke and Natalie sat down across from Eric. Natalie was closer to the window.

"Um…" Garrett stood around rather awkwardly, pressing his lips together.

"Oh! Sorry, Garrett," Eric replied and scooted closer to the window.

With that, Garrett sat down next to Eric. "But c'mon, man. What's wrong? You can talk to me about anything."

Eric stayed quiet, even as he stared right into Garrett's blue eyes. He wanted to his boyfriend, from the bottom of his heart, the truth. Where he came from, how he got here, and the fact that this very universe they all reside in was originally one created by the collaborations of other people from his world. It would get so much off his chest it wasn't even funny.

Still, no words came out. He couldn't bring himself to do it, as some part of his conscience reminded him it would be a cruel thing to do, however insane that would be.

"He had some pretty bad memories here, Garrett," Natalie said. "I don't think any of us know they would resurface."

"I…" Eric finally spoke. He sighed. He should thank Natalie later. "It's al lright, Natalie. I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

What was he thinking? He didn't have déjà vu as he first thought. Rather, in all likelihood, he had PTSD. He should go see a therapist soon if only to confirm his self-diagnosis.

Garrett exhaled. "Okay, cool. I understand. Privacy and all, right?"

"I guess," Eric replied.

It was then Garrett gently grasped his hand and stared straight into his eyes. "Eric, you remember what I said back four months ago at the recruitment center?"

Eric smiled. If only he could see the blush on his face. 'Yeah, I do. No matter what, you're with me. I love you." He took a deep breath. It was like a great weight had fallen off his chest.

"Something like that. And I love you, too."

"Yep, and there are me and Nat you have to deal with," Luke interjected. Natalie gave him an approving look. "You're not alone here. And besides, I heard you did pretty good in basic training."

"I did?" Eric asked as he gently escaped his boyfriend's grip. He had to admit, he was surprised. He feared he wasn't cut out for the military. "Well, I… thanks and all. I think I need to hear that."

"I saw you messing around with your omni-tool," Natalie commented as he leaned forward. "Ever thought about enlisting under the Engineer AIT?"

"You mean advanced training?" Eric asked. Natalie nodded, and he turned to Luke. "Hey Luke, how long does advanced training take again?"

"Um…" Luke rubbed his chin before counting his own fingers. "Several months, I think. But there are some courses that are exclusive to biotics—"

"You know I'm not a biotic," Eric chuckled.

Luke puffed his cheeks. "Right. My mouth went ahead of my brain, sorry about that."

A brief pause. "So Engineering for me, right?" Eric asked.

"That's right," Luke confirmed. "You seemed like a good fit. What about you, Garrett?"

"You're kidding, right?" Garrett scoffed. "I'm big and loud." He palmed his chest as if to prove a point.

"Soldier, then."

"That's kinda redundant, but okay. What next?"

"Well, you two might be going to separate facilities, so you're not gonna see each other for a while," Luke explained. "It's a bummer, I know."

Eric's heart dropped like a bag of rocks, a sullen look appearing on his face. "But what about using comm channels? Taking breaks?"

"Yeah, something like that. Silver lining, huh?"

Garrett and Eric exchanged looks. For a moment, it felt like an eternity. "So… another kiss for luck?" Garrett asked. "I don't think we'll get another chance."

Eric nodded, and his lips pressed against Garrett's. It was longer than usual. Sweet and a little wet. He could taste a bit of mint lingering in Garrett's breath.

"Brushed your teeth again?" Eric asked as they parted.

"Yeah. Miniaturized mass effect fields as usual. And toothpaste," Garrett answered with a smile.

Eric smiled back. "I didn't know you can do that."

"You do now, love."

 _Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, visiting Angkor Wat_ , Eric thought. A shiver went down his spine, the fear of seeing the orb again lingering in his mind, but it was small enough for him to ignore and put aside for now. _I mean, a meal and going to the temple. That's pretty cool. What's the worst could happen?_


	8. Interlude 2: The Most Wonderful Time

_Happy N7 Day, everybody! It has been ten years since the release of the first Mass Effect game. I've been a bit of a fan of the series since back in 2009 when I first played it on the Xbox 360. I remember I didn't have much to do at the time, so I was like "Why not?" And things went on from here, as I've found new friends, followed communities, and I even got a selfie with my brother and Jennifer Hale herself at a local con. How crazy was that? It was an opportunity of a lifetime, and I won't forget it._

 _Anyway, this interlude below was a flashback I liked. I didn't have any idea what to do with it nor where to put it in my fic, and I didn't want to put it to waste. So I went with what you were reading right now._

* * *

 **Interlude 2: It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year**

 _Year: 2012  
Location: Boston, Massachusetts_

Christmas Day; that time of the year again. Instead of Eric and his family going over to New York upstate to visit his uncle Seth, many of his relatives on both sides of his family came over to his place instead. To his disappointment, he couldn't find his father anywhere. He knew his dad was redeployed, but he couldn't help but had this sense of incompleteness, with his mother taking up most of the slack on taking everyone here.

Deep down, he feared it was going to be some sort of clash or something, where some idiot would get drunk and rowdy, leading to a brawl, and someone would call the police. Much to his relief, none of that happened. Maybe he was in a pretty bad mood lately.

The only problem? It seemed like there were too many people in the house to fit in. Somehow, either his mom found a way and didn't tell him, or the house was bigger than he thought. Either possibility was entertaining enough for him to ponder.

With all the gift-exchanging and the constant chatter and the like, it started to wear him down a little.

"Why don't you say hi, Eric? Hi, Eric! This is your new cousin, Juan!" his aunt Lila cooed rather excitedly at one moment, waving the newborn's delicate arm.

"Wow, I beat you? That's a first," Garcia remarked while playing a game of Mario Party on the Wii.

"Hey, Eric! Did I give you that smartphone already?" Seth called out another point.

Now it was too much for him to bear. Right now, he'll rather watch through the window behind the couch, hoping to see some snowfall. That would be entertaining.

Come to think of it, did he get anyone a gift for this year?

"Eric? Why aren't you playing Mario with your cousins?"

Eric jolted a little. He turned to his left, seeing his grandmother Carol sitting next to him. Like every time he saw her, she always wore a fluffy sweater, this time a green and red-rimmed one with a Christmas tree in the middle.

"Oh… hey, abuela," Eric sighed and settled on the couch, looking at the TV across the room as his cousins continued playing Mario Party. The screen showed a part of a large, colorful, and crowded board, with Mario skipping across each large blue dot before stepping on a pink dot. "I think they're good. They already got enough people to play as it is. They seemed happy enough."

"They take turns, your sister included," she pointed out.

Eric said nothing, only rolling his eyes as he groaned in disgust.

It was then his grandmother noticed something about him, only in some way grandmas know how, judging by the concerned look on her face. "Are you okay, Eric?" she asked, her hand on his.

"I'm okay, abuela," he insisted, looking away from her.

Her face made more wrinkles when she frowned, all mirth disappearing. "But aren't you having a good time?"

"Well…"

"Well, that's just rude!" she retorted with wide eyes. "It's Christmas, for goodness sake! I doubt you'll get another chance to spend time in person for a while, aren't you?"

Eric doesn't want to argue with her. She was her grandmother, and it was Christmas day. Why would he ruin it for everyone else?

He hung his head forward with his hands together. "You know what?" He puffed his cheeks before pressing his lips together. "You're right. I'll do my best for your sake."

His grandmother's frown turned upside down, a warm smile traveling across her face. She seemed pleased with Eric's answer. "That's the spirit!" she said, giving Eric a small and brief hug.

"Thank you, abuela." He smiled in return, but he couldn't help but notice her arms were shaking.

His grandmother sat up. "Now, I need to go outside for a bit for a smoke."

"Wait, that stuff…" he tried to protest. He wanted to.

Her head dropped in shame. "I know, Eric. I'm trying. I'm doing my best for your madre's sake." With that, she sauntered out of the living room and onto the porch outside, closing the front door behind her.

Eric looked back at the window and saw it was nighttime already. Time sure passed by quickly.

His mother walked out of the kitchen and stopped in between the dining area and the living room. "Okay, everyone!" She clapped her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Dinner's ready!"

In a span of a minute, many gathered at the dining area. There were two tables, one taller than the other. The taller and longer one, made of oak, had several empty plates surrounding a stuffed turkey. Near the edge of the room, by the rather large window looking out to the neighborhood, was the short plastic table with plastic chairs, suitable for small children.

"Did we get everyone, Felicia?" Eric's grandfather, Arturo, asked. He wore the same sweater as his grandmother. Also, he sat down next to Eric after the latter gathered a plateful of sliced turkey and black olives.

Eric's mother looked around at a hurried pace before her face fell into a scowl. Eric looked around as well. Realization dawned on Eric that he hadn't seen his brother since earlier today when he gave his brother Halo 4. With his birthday money, no doubt.

"Dios mío, ¿dónde está ese muchacho idiota?" His mother rolled her eyes before turning toward him. "Eric, could you go out and get your brother? Tell him dinner's ready."

Eric nodded. He didn't like being around that many people, anyway. He squeezed out of his chair in haste and sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving his dinner untouched.

Passing by the living room, he glanced to his left at the now-turned-off flatscreen, mounted on a yellow-painted wall. Under the TV was a short shelf with a Nintendo Wii and a Blu-ray player at the bottom, the top shelf stacked with all sorts of games and movies.

He went up the stairs to his right, the woodwork creaking after each step. Soft and quiet, he passed by each framed picture after he flipped the lights on. A sense of nostalgia had filled the air around him as he slowed his pace.

Some either depicted him, his relatives, or both, like the one where his two-year-old self and his mother at the time playing around in the kiddie pool. There was another showing his sister from ten years ago, showing her blue Tamogatchi in broad daylight. Other pictures were old. Some had faded colors, others black and white.

On the tenth step, he stopped when he saw a picture of his father wearing his military uniform before he went out on his first tour. The picture had him standing straight, a blank expression on his face. Eric knew why he left earlier this year, but he lowered his head and looked away, frowning. Every time he called his father, sent him a message on Facebook emailed him, and even tried doing a voice chat on Skype, his father always said he was busy.

At the top of stairs was where a cross would be, with dust gathering where it would be. Eric looked away, a mixed feeling of embarrassment and disgust lingering in him. He didn't want to be reminded of what happened years ago.

He blinked, shaking off his thoughts as the sounds of Alphonse playing a video game grew louder as he approached a door at the end of a hallway. Judging by the simulated gunfire, Alfonso was playing Halo 4. Then again, he couldn't tell for sure.

He knocked on the door. "Hey, it's Eric. Mamá sent me to get you. Dinner's ready."

A silent pause lingered for a moment before the sounds abruptly died off. Seconds later, the door cracked open, just slightly so Eric wouldn't see past it. "Nah, I'm not that hungry," Alfonso replied behind the door.

"Look, everyone's waiting for you downstairs. You coming or what?"

"I'm in the middle of an important part!"

Eric frowned. "Want me to bring Garcia up to get you instead? I'm pretty sure it's more important than playing that game I got you."

"I'm actually playing Mass Effect right now!"

"What?" Eric frowned. He did not just hear his brother say that.

"Hey, don't freak out like that! I'll get to Halo eventually."

"Look, quit messing around and—" He barged in, only to stop on the spot.

The room was small, well-lit by a lamp on a night at the end of the bedroom. The carpet floor was littered with garbage, most of them candy wrappings and chip bags. The bed was a mess, with the blankets squashed up into a pile at the corner to Alphonse's left. That wasn't why he stopped. On the desk was a copy of Halo 4, still wrapped in plastic. Next to the desk was a small TV standing on a shelf, with the Xbox 360 underneath.

And there was his brother sitting on the bed, the controller on his lap and his hands raising, annoyed as hell. "Hey, what the hell, man?" he called out.

Eric crossed his arms. He couldn't help but be disappointed if only a little. He eyed the unwrapped game before gazing at Al's TV. It showed the Xbox blue-and-white interface, the picture behind it darkened. A dark-haired man in blue armor stood next to a large glowing terminal, his hand over a flashing red button with a red star appearing at the corner of the screen.

"So that's Mass Effect?" he asked, unfolding his arms.

Alfonso nodded. "Uh-huh. Third game in the series. That's the Omega DLC I was playing just now."

"What about Halo? You're pretty excited about that, last time I checked," Eric pointed out, all his frustration receding.

His brother rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I have to catch up. I didn't even look up some spoilers online, so I'm safe."

"But… why?"

"What do you think?" Alfonso asked with a smirk.

Eric knew a little about the series, but since his brother wouldn't shut up about it, he lost interest. Right now, he had more pressing concerns like not pissing his mother off.

"You know what?" Alfonso asked as he sat up with a grunt. "I'm starvin'. We better get downstairs before Mom kills us. Or lectures us in front of everyone."

"Just like that?" Eric asked, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

"Just like that, Eric. C'mon," Alphonse replied.

Eric nodded and followed his brother as they leave the room.

Now he thought about it, the series had some interesting concepts like an exotic material that released dark energy in addition to pursuing a romance with a character of the same sex. That was something he rarely saw that media, in general, handled well. If only he hadn't had so much homework to do…

"Wait, about Mass Effect…" he started.

"Yeah? Alfonso asked as he looked back at Eric.

"So when can I try them out?"

"Oh, so _now_ you're interested?" Alfonso asked, descending the stairs. "Maybe after dinner, okay? I'll let you play in my room, but you'll have to start playing games with me like you promised, and that includes one you're not into. Plus, if you want the full experience, _start_ with the first game. Deal?"

Eric considered Alphonse's offer before smiling. What was the worse could happen, anyway? "It's a deal."


	9. Chapter 7: Boston

_I forgot to mention I've renumbered the chapters. So the prologue will now be the first chapter and so forth._

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Boston**

On the walls of the passageway, the white paint had faded from centuries worth of wear and tear, more so than his last visit. They were decorated with carvings, detailing large-scale battles like the Battle of Lanka and various aspects of Hindu mythology. Once again, Eric was so entrenched by the level of detail and the stories of people and powerful beings that he lost track of time.

But he stopped and gathered his bearings. Wasn't that led him to the orb in the first place? He walked past the bystanders. Most ignored him while a few of them he bumped into was polite enough to either apologize or say, "excuse me." At least the temple wasn't crowded.

He wandered around aimlessly and saw a few daring teenagers climb on the steep stairs of the smaller towers like his siblings had done beforehand. He wondered how things would have been different if his father had bothered to come with them to Thailand. Maybe he would've told himself to be mindful. Maybe he would've been a bit more grateful of his own son.

Eric sighed deeply, unclenching his fists as he shivered a little. He saw his breath coming out of his mouth only to disappear a second later. It was a good thing he was wearing a hat and a jacket. It was freezing out here!

He returned to his thoughts and realized anger was welling up inside him. He knew it was probably more complicated than that. It wasn't like anyone, not even his father, would see him whisked away to another universe. His father loved him, obviously. But thinking back, his father's military service wasn't the only thing that changed him…

* * *

 _Year: 2013  
Location: Boston, Massachusetts_

Eric tapped his mechanical pencil on his desk. He was in the middle of doing his homework, but he found himself drawing at a blank. His nostrils flared up, irritated that somehow, he lost his train of thought on an essay question from his _College Physics_ textbook downloaded on his laptop. He hoped it was an easy question for him.

 _Wait. Did I forget something?_

He rubbed his temples to fight against the throbbing pain in his head. He had been looking at the screen for too long. He scrolled back up a few pages to re-read a section. A minute later and he had the answer, finally.

Just as he started to write down the answer on the notepad, he looked up to the window in front of him. It was the afternoon, though rather cold according to the weatherman. It was rather sunny, the sunlight giving his small room plenty of light. Outside were rows and rows of houses and apartments laying by a large body of water he could barely see. Given the weather and the time of day, there were plenty of birds in the sky and he could hear the roar of an airplane overhead.

He sighed. His brother and father went to go watch the Marathon. Alfonso wanted to join in the race, but his father objected, he remembered. Eric wished he would've come along, but he had homework to do. They understood, though his brother was reluctant to go with his father and no one else.

It would have been nothing out of the ordinary for him, if not for a trial of smoke rising southwest of here.

With widening eyes, Eric inhaled sharply. His father and brother were there, at Copley Square. Boylston Street. That was where the Marathon took place.

 _Dios mio. What happened?_ he wondered. _Is there a fire going on over there? Is anyone gonna be okay?_

He just sat in his chair, doing nothing, saying nothing. Seconds seemed like ages to him. His mind swam in a never-ending stream of thoughts. He wasn't sure what to do next, nor did he know why he didn't do anything.

A faint boom and another trial of smoke rose near the same spot. There was never a fire going on over there.

A set of footsteps rushing up the stairs and the door opening by him soon after took him by surprise. Eric whipped his head to see his sister. Her right hand was on the door, her eyes filled with terror, something he had never seen before in his life.

"Garcia, what's going on?" Eric asked, worried and scared out of his mind.

All she could say was, "You need to see what's on the news right now. It's really important."

He could barely get the words out of his mouth. "What about Al? Where is he? Where's—"

"Please." Her plea was desperate.

Eric heard the TV blaring the news below. His heart sank as the implications started to set in. He could only fear for the worst.

Slowly and unwillingly, he sat up and followed his sister close behind. While her pacing was rushed and urgent, Eric was slow, reluctant, even as he went down the stairs. Partway down, he saw the TV depicting people running around in disarray all over the street, their screams of terror blasting out of the speakers. Smoke covered the screen as whoever was holding the camera shook around in movement.

It wasn't any better as he entered the living room. Soon after, the TV showed policemen and women and military soldiers in uniform urging people to get to safety. He could only stare out in horror as his eyes welled up with tears. He didn't even notice he slowly sunk into the couch behind him, his eyes still glued to the TV. He didn't saw his sister going back upstairs, but he could tell she was as upset as he was.

There were sirens wailing outside, louder as they passed by his house. The ambulance. His heart sank. He hoped his brother and father were going to be all right. The temptation to pray for their safety lingered in his mind.

"They're going to be okay…" he muttered to himself, resting his forehead on his tented hands. He repeated himself this several times.

He looked up to see his mothering sitting next to him. A mix of worry and horror were marked all over her face. Her hands were over her mouth, pressing her lips together.

"Hey there…" Eric croaked.

His mother said nothing, her eyes focused on the TV as a correspondent talked and recapped what went on as well as some additional breaking information that he really didn't care about right now.

"Why don't we call Al and Papá and see if they're okay?" he suggested.

"I tried calling them, Eric," his mother finally spoke. "Neither of them answered their phones." She never looked back at him.

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"Are they hurt?" Eric placed a hand on her shoulder. The panic in his voice was palpable. "Please, Mamá. Just tell me what's going on."

His mother lowered her head with a long sigh. "I think… I think someone left these bombs and…"

"A bomb?" Eric asked impulsively. He already knew that, but he couldn't help but grasp at understanding why only for his mind to draw at a blank. "But… wh-why would someone do that?" he cried out.

"I don't know, Eric." Her voice began to crack. "I don't know how to answer that. I'm not God. I can't read people's thoughts." She paused for a moment. "Maybe there's… there's something wrong going on in their head. Maybe they just want to hurt others, make them suffer for it."

"Maybe," Eric replied. "That's a pretty messed up view of the world."

"Yeah," his mother agreed.

Neither of them said anything else, even with more breaking news unfolding. Suddenly, Eric had this urge to step out and see if he could do something and make a difference, no matter how small that might be. He didn't want anyone else to suffer. He wanted to be a good person for once.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked.

"Anything," her mother answered.

"I want to help out." It was like a great weight had gone off his chest.

It was then his mother shot him that look, all grave and disapproving. "No."

"Wha…?" Eric found himself confused. "But…"

"No," she repeated. Her tone was harsh. To be honest, it was surprising to see her like that, let alone hear her like that.

Eric sat up and turned around to see her. With narrowed eyebrows, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Don't you start…" she frowned.

"Why not?"

"Because it's getting dangerous out there," she answered, not breaking her eye contact with her son. "For all we know, whoever has set up these bombs could be around out there. I don't want you to get hurt!"

"I still want to come," he insisted. "Besides, it's not that far to Copley Square. And I'll be safe with other people. I can get there on foot."

"No. It'll take too long to get there."

"Well, I can take the car and—"

"You are _not_ taking the car," she shot back, her voice beginning to rise. Despite this, she never showed any other signs of anger.

Eric frowned, unfolding his arms as his nostrils flared up. "Look, I'm not that worried about myself. I'm more worried about the others, all right?" He pointed at the TV showing a bunch of people carrying another person, blood staining his clothes, on a stretcher to the ambulance. "Everyone's out there, like what? Trying to help! Maybe even risking their lives doing so?" His arm lowered, he approached his mother. "What about Al? What about Papá? Huh? How would you feel if either of them gets hurt? What about both?!"

"So am I, mijo. I know you want to help," his mother replied, her voice lowering. "But I pray to God it'll be taken care of. The authorities will be looking for whoever has done this, and I'm sure your hermano and Papá will be safe and sound. They'll be home soon. I know it."

Eric wanted to speak out and protest. Hell, he could just walk out of here, all by himself. But he stopped and wonder to himself, would he really do that to his mother, worry her sick like Alfonso did when he was late home from school? He would probably get a scolding from her, and a worse one from his father. He wasn't ready for it. Not yet. No one wanted to have their child hurt or worse.

"I don't think there's anything you can do now, Eric," she continued, doleful.

"But what about later?"

"I don't know." His mother grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. At least Eric would appreciate her for that; they had more than enough. "Please, just… stay here. It's for your own good."

She said nothing else as she left, and Eric stood there all by himself in the living room.

With slumped shoulders and a lowered head, he left the room as well. Walking up the stairs, he let the words his mother had spoken sink in.

 _It's for your own good_.

That hit him right in the gut like a bulldozer had gone through the wall and ran him over for good measure. Sure, she was his mother and she truly cared for and loved him. With his father always busy with work, she had to double her efforts and pick up the slack he left behind. But to Eric, it was nothing short of condescension, no matter how she spun it.

When he reached the top of the stairs, his pacing slowed as he passed by a white door to his left that had closed shut. That led to his sister's bedroom. He leaned against the door, and he could tell she was inside, judging by the soft sobs.

He knocked on the door. He waited. The sobs went silent.

"Garcia?" Eric called out.

There was no answer. Eric knocked on the door again.

"Hey, it's Eric. You don't sound so good."

Again, no answer came from inside her room.

Slowly and cautiously, Eric creaked the door open enough for him to peek inside.

The room was slightly larger than his. Her golden-yellow bed with a willow frame and lily pillows was packed in a corner by his left, the walls painted a bright red.

His sister was on the bed, all curled up in a fetal position. Her back had turned against the wall.

He hesitated. _Maybe I shouldn't barge in if she didn't answer._

He was about to leave and go to his room, but she shifted and tossed around, seeing him just as he stepped out. "Eric?"

Eric stopped and looked back. "Oh. Hey, Garcia. I thought I should check up on you. Doing all right?"

She sat up before shaking her head. Dried tears trailed down her cheeks, her face red with sadness. "I couldn't stop thinking about Papá and Al."

"Me neither." Eric stepped into the room nervously. "Err, mind if I—"

"It's fine. Go ahead."

Eric said nothing as he sat down in her office chair by her bed. "So yeah, I couldn't help it either." He lowered his head. "You ever tried calling them? Mamá tried to call both of them and…" He curled his lips. "Well, y'know…"

"No, I can't get a hold of them," Garcia answered. "I left them a voicemail, though. Hope that'll work out."

"Yeah, me too." He sighed and looked up at her. He wanted to try something different so they could take their minds from what seemed like the end of the world.

"Hey, you remember the time Al dared you to eat one of those Naga Viper peppers? You were on the floor at Simon's place, screaming like crazy." He nearly broke into a chuckle. "Like, your face was all red and stuff."

Garcia puffed her cheeks to stop herself from smiling. "Oh, fuck off, Eric! At least he ate one himself. Serves him right if you ask me."

"Yeah," he smiled. "He was happy about it, though."

"Well, let's see…" Garcia fell into deep thought for a moment, trying to remember another thing they could reminisce about. "What about the time Papá managed to beat you and Al in Super Smash Bros.? He never played a video game before."

"Hey! I was six! And Al was nine!" Eric shot back playfully. "You can't blame both of us for that!"

"You and Al have been playing games a lot longer than he has," she pointed out, finally breaking into a smile.

"Can't argue with that." Come to think of it, he realized he hadn't played much before the playing the Mass Effect series. _Maybe I should catch up. I promised Al to play with him._ "It'll be nice for Papá to, uh, take a break every now and then.

Garcia rolled her eyes and rested her hands on the mattress. "I don't think that's likely."

"I know. I just wanted to say it." Eric pressed his lips together. "And… I kinda wish Mamá would let me out of the house."

This made his sister somewhat confused. "What for?" she asked with arched eyebrows.

"She says it's for my own good. You know how overprotective our parents are." Eric clenched his knees, a bit of anger and frustration welling up inside his body. His nostrils flared up for a moment. Reminiscing about better times didn't work as he had hoped. "I just want to help and maybe fine Al and Papá as well."

"Same. Once the dust settles, I'm thinking of volunteering tomorrow. A lot of people got hurt, and they need help. They need blood donations, medical supplies, you name it. It's not gonna die down anytime soon."

Eric nodded along. He wished he could donate blood as well. "That's nice. But it doesn't explain why Mamá treated me that way."

Garcia let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes for a moment. The struggle to find the words to say was palpable on her face. "She's taking it pretty badly, you know. She didn't want you hurt or missing or worse."

"I know that."

"But I agree with you. It's not right for her to treat you like that." She paused thoughtfully before continuing. "Have you heard of the Serenity Prayer?"

Eric heard about it before. _God granted me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,_ _the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference._ That was how he remembered it. The prayer was clear as crystal. But he didn't want to accept this would be a part of his life, and at the same time, he never felt so powerless in his life.

He said nothing.

Footsteps came up the stairs, then to the hallway, louder as they went closer to Garcia's room. The sudden noise brought their attention to their mother stopping at the door. There was that overjoyed and, more importantly, relieved look on his mother's face. "It's your hermano. He just called. Your hermano and Papá are all right!"

* * *

It was dusk, the sun setting behind the many buildings in Copley Square. Someone placed a handheld radio the fountain with the two obelisks. The stranger inserted a CD in the radio and hit the play button. People started to gather around the site to memorialize the victims of the attack. Three people perished, and hundreds were injured.

 _In restless dreams I walked alone_

 _Narrow streets of cobblestone_

 _'Neath the halo of a street lamp_

 _I turned my collar to the cold and damp_

 _When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light_

 _That split the night_

 _And touched the sound of silence_

The crowd continued singing in unison as more gathered to join in, some to bring lit candles, pictures of loved ones, well-wishing cards, and other small objects. All of them gathered around a large decorated poster that read, _BOSTON STRONG_ in green marker

Eric was among many others. He only brought a bag of flowers his mother bought. Even as people sang, he only stood silent. He couldn't bring himself to go along with the others. Neither could his brother.

It had been days since the bombing. The authorities, the FBI, and a few police departments were on the lookout for the suspects involved. It was a terrorist attack, they said. They told the public to keep out and report any suspicious activities. People started up efforts to aid the victims, helping them provide a speedy recovery. Various organizations and companies set up ways to find any missing persons. That was how Alfonso and his father were found.

A sharp tap on his shoulder brought Eric's attention to his brother. On the surface. Alfonso looked just fine. He wore an anime-themed t-shirt to go along with his khaki pants and gray sneakers. His hair had been growing ever since late last year. Inside, however, was a whole different story.

Eric noticed him shiver if only just a little. "C'mon, let's get out of here," his brother urged him. "This place is starting to feel like a ghost town."

He blinked in confusion. It took him a moment to realize his brother and his father were close to the site of the bombing. That could shake anyone to the core, literally in this case.

"Okay," he nodded and followed closely behind his brother as they left the park behind, sauntering past the others in the crowd as they all chanted, "Boston Strong!"

Their car wasn't far away; it was down Boylston Street at a large yet unassuming parking lot. Neither Eric nor Alfonso said anything, even as they arrive at the parking lot. There were a lot more cars after they parked.

The silence made Eric more than a little uncomfortable. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure on what words he should pick. Should he comfort his brother? Ask about how he was doing? What about their father? The mere thought of his father spending time in the hospital troubled him. On one hand, it was the plan to give him a visit after stopping at Copley Square. On the other hand, he was hardly a fan of hospitals.

It took them a few minutes before they finally found it: a blue Honda care parked near the center.

"How are you holding up, Al?" Eric asked, breaking the silence.

Alfonso let out a confident smirk. He dug out the keys out of his pocket, with a press of a button in the keychain, unlocked the door. "You know me. Getting by, as usual," he answered. "The doctors said I'm fine for the most part. Physically healthy and all that. No concussions, continuing ringing in my head, nor any signs of any internal injury."

"What about Papá?" Eric asked.

Alfonso opened the door. "I'm not sure," he answered, pausing before entering the car after Eric sat in the front passenger's seat.

"I mean, is he going to be all right?" Eric buckled up and made himself comfortable.

For a moment, his brother said nothing as he started the car and, with a few motions, carefully drove the vehicle out of the parking lot. He looked at him just before to make sure he wouldn't hit anything.

"Al?" Eric looked at him, concerned.

"You know how well I was even after the blast?" Alfonso finally asked as he drove the car down the road, joining with a stream of trucks and other cars.

Eric said nothing, his eyes also on the road.

"Papá wasn't as lucky as I am. Getting a concussive blast can sure mess up your body. I mean, it rattles your organs and bursts your eardrums…"

Eric frowned and gave his brother a dirty look. "Quit being a dick, Al. That's not funny." He knew Alfonso was trying to light up a dark situation, but it really didn't help.

His brother sighed. "Sorry. The doctors called Mamá earlier. She told me he's going to be all right, so I'm sure his ears haven't ruptured or something. He just needed to spend a little bit of time in the hospital."

Eric let out a relieved sigh. That was what he wanted to hear. "It's just… I can't really get this stuff out of my mind any more than to forget that this car is _en coche_ ," He knew it wouldn't be enough for him.

Alfonso smirked. "Took you long enough to see _that_." He sure was proud of his superior Spanish skills.

"I've studied Spanish back in junior high. I wanna make Mamá proud. You can't blame me for being a little rusty," Eric shot back.

"Yeah right."

"I'm serious."

"Sure you are."

Eric's nostrils flared up as he turned to his brother. "What about you? I don't see _you_ speaking in Spanish."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alfonso smirked.

"You know what I'm talking about."

His brother chuckled. The car slowed and stopped at a stoplight. He turned to Eric, his smirk turning into a warm, happy grin. "Hey. Boston Strong, man."

Eric nodded. "Yeah. Boston Strong," he repeated.

* * *

 _Year: 2182  
Location: Angkor Wat, Earth_

Eric remembered his father was fine, for the most part. It took him several days to recover. While physical injuries can heal with time, the trauma his father experienced would remain. For how long, he doesn't know. It was tempting to apologize to his father for the crap he gave him, but would he do it since his father had laid a hand over his mother? Especially over his behavior?

He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall and staring pensively at the other end of the room. His earbuds played the song he heard back last year. Last year in his universe, anyway. Sighing, he rubbed down his face to fight against the tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't help it.

The room was small and circular, empty save for him and him alone. The ceiling above him have no openings, no signs of erosion, and the walls were made of sandstone. That fresh smell of recent restoration efforts lingered in the air. The only source of light was the light lights hanging from the ceiling.

He remembered, back at the hospital on the Citadel, that he wanted to just make a run for it and find a way back home. Now he was here, what was he supposed to do next? Stick around and have the orb pop out of nowhere and take him away, probably bring him back to his home universe? Or maybe take him someplace else, he realized. Not only that, but wormholes tend to consume a lot of energy and annihilate the temple and anyone unlucky enough to be near it. If it was a wormhole, in theory.

He also realized he really didn't think things through.

"Eric!" The voice of his boyfriend called out, echoing in the hallways outside.

Eric stopped the music and removed the earbuds. He wiped away his tears and stood up, exiting the room behind him. There was Garrett waiting for him, standing in the middle of the corridor. He was more than relieved to see him. Behind Garrett were Luke and Natalie, their worried expressions also turned into relief mixed with confusion.

"You made us worried, Eric. You just… wandered off on us," said Natalie, letting out a sigh through her nostrils. "Is everything all right?"

A humming sound rang in his ears. He looked back to that small, circular room. For a second, he saw what seemed like something taking on a blue hue, just out of the corner of his eyes. He blinked, and it vanished. Was that his imagination, or did he miss his chance with the orb?

"Eric?" Luke asked.

It took quite a bit of willpower to turn his head around, however slowly, to see Luke. It took some more for him to come up with something to say, betraying the blank look on his face." Yeah?"

"The temple's about to close up for the night. You sure you want to get in trouble?"

"What?" Eric tilted his head, a mixture of surprise and confusion palpable on his face. He peeked out and saw the sky was a darker shade of blue. It was also getting colder, the mist escaping his mouth intensifying. "Oh… I'm sorry. It won't happen again." With that, he and the others joined the crowd, following down another corridor and heading out for the exit.

"Hey, Eric? You look like you had a lot on your mind. What's up?" Garrett asked.

"Just some old habits, Garrett," Eric answered.

"Really?" Garrett's eyebrows furrowed after looking around for seemingly no reason.

"Yeah. Nothing bad about it."

The rest of the conversation carried out like nothing strange had happened. Garrett was on about a game tie-in to _Wild Dagger_ , while Natalie and Luke were talking about preparing for their kids' birth. Things to buy, a baby shower for Natalie, the works.

Eric's mind wandered for a moment, drowning out the chatter. It was crazy for him to be here, with people he wouldn't think to be with. He assumed he would have no one to connect to and no way to get back home. But now? He knew what would happen next. The war against Cerberus and the Reapers would happen and it would claim the lives of billions. He would as capable of dying as everyone else. He reminded himself there were still the geth and the Collector invasions. These hung over him like a dark cloud.

But his old life, his universe? It was time for him to move on.

* * *

 _Back a couple years ago, 4Ferelden and I were working on the fic's plotline. The first suggested I should apply this plot point, he was against the idea since it was fresh on everybody's minds at the time. I can understand that. Well, time heals all wounds as they say, and I feel it was appropriate to write this event from Eric's perspective._

 _I intend to portray this as one story among many, exploring the personal impact the Boston Marathon Bombing would have on someone like Eric and his family. I believe this would be the best approach to it._


	10. Chapter 8: Who Dares, Wins

**Chapter Eight: Who Dares, Wins**

 _Username CosmosWiz (Eric Grimes)  
Username: CoppaCop (Natalie Clay)_

 _EG: [LOGIN][ONLINE]  
NC: [LOGIN][ONLINE]_

 _10:31 EG: Hey, Nat._

 _10:36 EG: You there? Did you get my message?_

 _10:36 NC: Yeah. Sorry about that. Long meeting._

 _10:37 EG: Oh good. I didn't want to reiterate._

 _10:37 NC: You were a little vague in the email. Something up?_

 _10:38 EG: Not at all! Just figured you might need a break, away from the Citadel._

 _10:38 EG: Got something in mind?_

 _10:38 NC: Well…_

 _10:41 NC: I always want to visit India. It's where I grew up. My parents would be more than happy to see me again. My father, especially._

 _10:41 EG: Sounds good. I suggested avoiding taking a vacation on the Citadel. Too expensive IIRC_

 _10:41 EG: What's he like, if you don't mind me asking?_

 _10:42 NC: Like any other dad, really. He wanted to leave behind a better world for his child._

 _10:45 EG: Sounds better than *my* dad._

 _10:45 NC: Eric, don't sell yourself short._

 _10:45 EG: Geez, sorry!_

 _10:45 NC: So why don't you come with us?_

 _10:46 EG: Gonna be on my tour soon, remember?_

 _10:46 NC: Oh! Well, in that case: stay safe, okay?_

 _10:46 EG: You too. Dangerous galaxy out there._

 _10:46 NC: lol_

 _10:47 NC: Don't get paranoid on me! I'll be fine._

 _10:47 EG: Right._

 _10:47 EG: welp gotta go instructor incoming! D:_

 _10:48 NC: Be seeing you. :)_

* * *

 _Year: 2183  
Location: Rhode Island, Earth_

Several months had passed by, and Eric had just completed his training as a combat engineer. It was hard, and it was frustrating, but it was worth it. Even with all the training he received, he still had a little bit of trouble seeing himself serving in the Alliance Navy. Luke did say being an engineer would be more his style, and his superiors often remarked he had high marks in his proficiency in omni-tools and understanding of Vis in comparison to his handling of firearms, but still.

After his little holiday break, Eric was sent off to Aeternitas Station, where would-be engineers like him at the time go to train. With being instructed by people he didn't know and training with peers he didn't recognize on a station in outer space, it sure made him feel rather lonely. Missing out on seeing Natalie's newborn twins Florina and Helene and not being able to get in touch with Garrett, as he was at a separate station, did not help. But at least Garrett was with him now, also having completed his training.

However, he couldn't help but have this sense of dread hanging over him. He knew the Reaper, Sovereign, would come knocking on the Citadel's door with a fleet of geth behind it and Saren as his avatar. It could happen at any moment, he realized, but at least he was there. These reassurances didn't put his mind at ease. He could only hope Natalie heeded Eric's advice about going away from the Citadel for a vacation.

He couldn't help himself imagining serving under Shepard's command, playing a role in saving the galaxy, but he also found the prospect terrifying. Life-and-death situations at every turn and killing scores of people just to reach the objective? Maybe fixing comm relays in far-out colonies would be more appealing to him.

But right now. All he could do was wait and hope for the best. Perhaps it would be best to spend some quality time with Garrett. He mentioned a party going on in the facility.

"Hey, do they have that one weird series up and running?" Eric asked.

"Which one?" Garrett replied, a little confused. "There's, like, thousands of those online."

"The one with the quarian spiders and vorcha bats! That one!" Eric answered, gesturing with his arms in a comedic fashion. "And for the life of me, I could not remember the name of that show."

Garrett's lips broke into a smile. "And thank God for that. I got some _weird_ dreams from that show."

"Yeah, I got them, too. No thanks to you."

"How weird are we talking about here?"

"Like… weirder than yours. Weird-weird, all right? So, like I asked just earlier, do they have that show on?"

Garrett answered that with a shake of his head, which brought a little bit of relief to Eric. They were walking down the hallway in the military facility and reached the end, meeting up with a closed door. Playing a pleasing sound, the door parted opened and they stepped inside.

The room was large and circular, with the window being the entire wall. The floor they stood on was a gray carpet, blue-rimmed by the window. At the center of the room were four TVs set next to each other into a square, blue couches circling around them. Outside, it was late in the afternoon and the sun was just about ready to set behind the buildings for the night.

The other occupants were also graduates, looking to spend some time having fun before being deployed to places elsewhere. Some were chatting with their peers and friends, and others were eating and drinking their merry way. A couple grunts were playing a game, and Eric recognized these three were his old bunkmates back in Brazil. Vera had her head leaned against Melek's, and Alban Alder was quite into the game. The game they were currently playing was a sequel to Redeemer, judging by the UI and the graphics.

As Eric approached the three on the couch, Alban turned around to see him with a warm, friendly smile on his face. The game had paused by then. "Hey, Eric!" he said after giving Eric a fist bump. "Been over a year! How's it been, my friend?"

"It's, uh… it's going," Eric answered. "What about you guys?"

Melek shrugged. "Same here. I'll be heading out to my new unit soon."

"What's your unit gonna be?"

"Echo Squad of the 8th Frontier Division. Somewhere in the Atticus Traverse. What about you, Eric?"

Eric shrugged. "No idea yet."

"Alban?"

"Gonna be assigned to Sixth Fleet." It was a straightforward answer from Alban.

"Oh, cool!" Vera commented.

Eric couldn't help but find it strange they all were quite blasé about being in the military. It might just be him, though.

"Anyway, Eric, want to play with us?" Alban asked. "It won't be as fun with three of us."

Eric considered passing up on this opportunity for a moment, but he relented. "Okay," he said and joined him, sitting on the couch with a fourth controller in hand.

Melek was the first player, being Casmira the demon knight from the first game, while Alban and Vera were Rosta the exiled priest and Zita the psychic outlander respectively. Eric chose to play as Goran, a monster hunter specializing in alchemy and combat magic.

It was a good time he had, as the four traversed through an abandoned city, fighting off wave after wave of werewolves and vampires, who according to the narration, made an unusual alliance for reasons that were not clearly specified. It didn't take much for Eric to be taken out of the experience when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Melek had paused the game as Eric turned around to, much to his surprise, see Arthur Mallon.

Everything about him was the same. Same curly blond hair, same hawkish face. What was different about him, however, was his demeanor. He was sullen like he had something on his mind.

"'Ey, Eric," he spoke. "Can we talk? Just the two of us?"

"Err, sure," Eric replied hesitantly. Garrett was just walking by and stopped as soon as he saw Arthur, eyeing him with suspicion while his former bunkmates looked on, not sure of what could happen next. "You're not… gonna make fun of me, right?"

"If you're gonna bother him over some stupid bullshit…" Garrett warned Arthur.

Arthur sighed as he rolled his eyes at Garrett. "I know, I know. You don't trust me anymore, I get it. But it's nothing like that."

Garrett crossed his arms out of skepticism. "Sure. Do what you have to do, but if I find you laying a hand on Eric…"

"Yeah. Got it," Arthur acknowledged.

Eric stood up and set aside the controller. He still wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but he figured it couldn't hurt. Hopefully. "Hey, think you can put me on AFK for a bit?"

"Sure," Melek replied and did just that.

With that, Arthur and Eric sauntered out of the lobby, just stopping at the entrance.

Eric leaned against the wall behind him, skepticism and a little bit of impatience palpable on his face. "So what's going on?"

Arthur looked down at the floor, his hands tenting between his fingers. There was an uncomfortable silence that befell them. He pressed his lips together as he took a sharp intake of breath. It was clear he had trouble finding the words. "Why is this so damn hard?" he asked, almost to himself.

"What's going on?"

"Yeah, okay…" he said to himself. He took another sharp intake. "I'm sorry for being such an ass to you, Eric. Maybe someday I can make it up to you. Don't know how, though." By the look on his face and the tone of his voice, he probably meant it.

Eric nodded with a small and appreciative smile. "The apology's enough, thanks," he said with a casual gesture of his hand.

Arthur's eyes lit up as he looked back at Eric. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Okay, that's… good to hear." Arthur nodded along.

"So why the change of heart?" Eric asked, curious.

"Disciplinary action and my parents calling me out sure helped, but all in all, the decision's my own," Arthur answered. He hesitated a little. "I… I hope that's okay."

"Yeah, it sure does," Eric agreed. "Again, thanks. It's good to hear that from you."

Their conversation ended abruptly as the door parted open, and Garrett quickly stepped in with them. Eric couldn't help but notice the sudden nervous look on his boyfriend's face.

"Garrett? What's going on?" he asked. A dreadful feeling took hold of him. Something must have gone wrong. Something he wasn't looking forward to the moment he came to this universe.

"You need to get in here," Garrett exclaimed. It was difficult for him to find the words he was looking for. Or trying to wrap around whatever situation was going on. "It's all on the news. The Citadel's under attack by the geth."

Eric's heart dropped. He had to will himself into following Garrett and Arthur back to the room.

Everyone had gathered around the screens, all showing images of a space battle between two fleets. One had ships of varying sizes and shapes, most of them the sharp, angular turian vessels with the Destiny Ascension towering them. The other fleet had ships that were insect-like in appearance with tiny appendages at the front. Among them was a massive cuttlefish-like ship leading the charge, encased in a material made of a dark metal. That was a Reaper. Sovereign. He could see why the Council and everyone else would dismiss the Reaper as a geth ship.

The Citadel itself had closed off as the Reaper flew in, undeterred by the opposition before it. It was clear the Citadel forces were losing badly to the geth. Although it would be obvious Shepard would arrive on the Citadel, open it, and bring in Alliance reinforcements to turn the tide, it wasn't what made Eric worried.

The scenery had cut to a woman with predominant Asian features backing away from the crossfire between the geth and C-Sec forces, the camera following her. The woman, credited as Emily Wong, looked scared despite her efforts to stay calm. She talked about the rising casualties in wake of the attack and that C-Sec had urged the denizens to evacuate the station.

Eric tapped on his omni-tool. _Natalie, this is Eric. Are you off the station? I'm worried about you_ , he typed. He pressed the send button, only for his omni-tool to display: _ERROR! CONNECTION LOST._

Eric cursed under his breath. Of course communications would be down. That would be the first thing everybody would go after in times of war. And soon enough, the "Please Stand By" message was on the screens with the rainbow background behind it.

Everyone was scared, and nobody said anything. Some could only look up in horror while others silently wept. Eric could only remember the terror he felt when he hadn't heard from his brother and father at the time of the Boston Marathon bombing until much later in the day.

He could feel that terror, that feeling of powerlessness wash over him. If only he could…

A sudden realization came upon him as his eyes lit up. He could make a difference. He could _save lives_ , just like his father had done. And no one would be here to stop him like his mother.

He clenched his fist and turned around, sauntering past the crowd and made his way out of the room. He could only a few steps in the hallway before someone called out, "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

He turned around and jerked as Garrett stood with his arms crossed in front of him. The door slid shut behind him, and a glance told Eric there were several people who noticed Eric walking out.

"The Citadel," Eric answered hesitantly, grasping his arm as if in shame.

"So you want to be a hero, then?"

"I just…"

It was then, much to his surprise, several other people emerged from the room. Arthur, Melek, Vera, Bristol, and Ami and Alban were all here.

"What's goin' on here?" Bristol wondered.

Garrett turned toward Bristol. "Eric wants to be a hero."

"So… you're all here to stop me, then?" Eric asked, his voice cracking a little. "Is that it?"

"Why not?" Vera asked, leaning against the wall to her right. By the tone of her voice, it was clear her question was not condescending but rather curious.

"Because…" Eric exhaled sharply. "Because as cliché as it is, it's the right thing to do."

Arthur pinched his nose and stopped himself from laughing. "Oh, right. Sorry 'bout that. Go on."

Eric paused. "It's something my f… friend told me. It's about doing the right thing, setting the right goals. Even if things would drag on with no progress in sight, we focus on the little things. They're the ones that matter, making up the big picture. They can give us purpose even when our superiors couldn't."

He sighed, tears welling up in his eyes. "And, well… my friends, Luke and Natalie, are probably on the Citadel. They have two daughters born not long ago. I couldn't get a hold of them since communications were down. I know it's dangerous going to the Citadel and stuff, but I can't—"

"You're not the only one, you know," Ami butted in. "Do you that sense of uncertainty you have, whether or not someone you care about would make it through this?"

"Yeah."

"I got that feeling too. My mother is on that station, and she's trapped somewhere over there."

"So is my aunt and uncle and my cousins," Vera added.

"And my friends," Alban said. "Well, _more_ of my friends."

Eric didn't know what to make of this. "So what are you saying, then? You want me to sit on my ass and do nothing while the galaxy's coming to an end?"

"No, we're not." Garrett made that cheeky smile on his face.

Eric was taken aback. "What?"

Garrett walked up to him and gave him a warm kiss on the lips. "We're all here to help. That speech of yours sure helped."

Eric was speechless. There was a lump in his throat. He did _not_ see this one coming, but he knew deep down he wanted this. "A-are you sure?"

"Yeah, probably. We'll get in trouble, that's for sure," Vera replied.

"A _lot_ of trouble, actually. We've all been ordered to stay put," Melek added and she received a look nothing short of serious from Vera. "But it'll be so worth it."

"So what's this plan of yours, exactly?" Arthur wondered. "Got something in mind for us?"

That was when Eric hesitated for a mere second. He expected to find a ship, jump through two relays, fly to the Citadel, and hope for the best. But a plan? He'll be more likely to get them all killed. "I'll explain on the way. If you don't wanna go, I'm not stopping you."

"Okay." Garrett pressed his lips together. "Well, I'm here for you. Till the end of the line."

Eric smiled. "Thanks. Thanks, guys."

With that, Garrett nodded and followed Eric. Alban and the others trailed behind them.

"Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What're we waitin' for?" Arthur grinned to himself before catching up.

* * *

They all arrived at the hanger bay, clad in Alliance standard-issue armor and weaponry. It was risky for them to defy orders to stay put, but snatching weapons and armor from the armory? That would earn the ire of their superiors, to say the least. Should the worst come to pass, and Eric hoped it wouldn't, he doesn't think some missing equipment would matter when compared to the end of galactic civilization.

All of them were clad in camo-blue armor from neck to toe. Even with a bit of muscle Eric gained over the past year, it still felt like there was a ten-pound object weighing him down. His armor was the lightest of them all, and he only had a pistol to his name.

 _Hope I don't have to use this_ , Eric thought. He knew he was obvious, and it was a little obvious to others. His fingers had constantly tapped on his thigh.

"Don't worry; we don't have to fight anything," Garrett reassured him.

"Yeah, I hope so," he replied.

Garrett went back to inspecting each of the shuttles by the walkway they stood on by hand. Not only did he have the heaviest armor of the bunch, he also had an assault rifle and a shotgun attached to his back, both standard-issue equipment. Garrett always said he wanted to be Tanky the Tank when he was a child.

 _Somebody spent way too much time playing D &D_, Eric thought in amusement. He did hear many weapon and armor manufacturers considered diversifying and overhauling their weaponry in light of recent geth attacks, streamlining armor designs, and upgrading said shield systems. The wonders of advancements in technology never ceased to amaze him.

Aside from Eric and the other recruits, it didn't look like there was any other soul in this well-lit hanger. There was even that fresh car smell wafting about, so that meant these things were commissioned here recently.

Bristol folded his arms in front of him, his mouth wrinkled into a frown. "Does anyone know how to fly this thing?"

An awkward silence fell among the group. Arthur brought his balled hand up to his mouth and coughed; Ami darted her eyes left and right, not uttering a word in hopes of not making it even more awkward.

"Uh, no?" Melek answered, meek and nervous.

Melek broke away from her patrolling and joined the rest. "Don't you have a plan in mind, Eric, or do you actually have any idea what we're about to do?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Hey!" someone called out.

Everybody turned to a man with a shaved head approaching them, his icy blue eyes making his gaze even more piercing and noticing.

"What are you all doing here?" the man in a crewman's outfit asked, somewhat demanding. Eric couldn't help but recognize his appearance and his voice. Had he forgotten that much?

Garrett crossed his arms and stepped toward the crewman, trying to come off as authoritative. That would really end well for him. "Mind telling us who are you?"

"2nd Lieutenant Steve Cortez," the man simply stated.

Eric nearly gasped, and he could have sworn that Steve and the others have noticed his reaction. Steve Cortez was in the third game, being the Normandy's shuttle pilot as well as a romance option for male Shepards. Eric really took a liking to him during his playthrough of the game. Dios, he felt really dumb.

Garrett immediately saluted, as did Ami, Alban, Bristol, Melek, and Arthur for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked Eric.

Eric nodded profusely. He followed along and saluted as well. Raised eyebrows, wide, darting eyes, and constantly flaring nostrils. Yep, he was screwed big time. "Y-yeah! Just… wasn't expecting someone of higher rank to be here. We, we uh…" _Oh fuck! Shit! What to do, what to do, what to do, what am I gonna do…? Fuck me sideways._

"Sir, we're defying orders to stay put! We intend to take a shuttle and pull an improve rescue op on the Citadel!" Garrett barked at the top of his voice, neither flinching nor squirming. "It was Eric's idea and we complied with him, sir!"

"Eric?" Steve inquired with an arched eyebrow. "Which one of you is Eric?"

"That would be me, sir." Eric turned his head to his boyfriend with a seething look. "What the hell?"

"Sorry! Bit of a habit I have lately," Garrett admitted, not looking back at Eric.

"Your plan sucks," Arthur chided.

"Oh, shut up," Eric snapped, taking a glance at Arthur.

"So… what happens now, sir?" Ami asked nervously. "Are we in trouble?"

Cortez sighed deeply and leaned against the railing to his right. "A good friend of mine, Robert, on the Citadel. I couldn't get a hold of him, nor alone anyone else for that matter." A small chuckle escaped his lips. "I'm sure you all friends and relatives stuck at that place." His voice trailed off and fell silent.

"Yeah. We all do," Eric sympathized.

Cortez stood up straight. "But I'm not here to turn you in, no. I'm here to help. Does anyone else know how to fly a shuttle?"

At first, the group didn't know what to think of the lieutenant's offer. They exchanged looks before most of them struggle to come up with an answer.

"No, I don't think so," Eric admitted sheepishly. "Alban?"

"Only one training course, in fact," Alban answered. "Not entirely sure that counts."

"So you're looking for a pilot?" Steve asked, stepping forward before crossing his arms in front of him with a confident smile. "Well, I'm your man."

"Okay, so why'd you want to help us all the sudden?" Eric asked, confused and curious at the same time.

"The obvious answer is that you need a pilot, as none of you have the training," Cortez explained. "And at the time, I thought there wasn't anything I could do." His voice trailed off for a moment. "But now that you're here, maybe you've heard the Alliance is moving out to Citadel space."

"Oh, really?" Eric's eyes lit up. So Shepard had taken back control of the Citadel from Sovereign after all. Maybe there was hope after all.

"Yeah, heard it from the news."

"Okay, yeah! Cool! That makes sense!" Eric exclaimed after a taking a sharp intake. "Permission to steal a shuttle and fly to the Citadel with you?"

Cortez nodded. "Permission granted. You're not here to fight the geth, are you?"

Almost immediately, Eric shook his head, making that an affirmative no. "We're not doing that! No, we're not. I know all of us are armed, but it's only for those just-in-case situations, you know. We're here to save people."

It only took a second for Eric to freeze in his place as the rest of the group, Steve included, opened the shuttle and stepped inside. He had to wonder: what if they accidentally get in the crossfire between the geth and the other fleets? Would they have to avoid the gunfire from practically everybody? Accidents happen, and he'd rather not have everyone, including him, pay with their lives.

"Oi, you coming or what?" Bristol called out, his head poking out of the shuttle door. "This is your stupid idea, after all!"

This snapped Eric out of his thoughts. "Oh yeah, sorry!" With that, he was the last to step inside.

* * *

 _Username CosmosWiz (Eric Grimes)  
Username: CoppaCop (Natalie Clay)_

 _EG: [LOGIN][ONLINE]_  
 _NC: [OFFLINE]_

 _17:38 EG: If you're still at the Citadel, my friends and I are coming to help._

 _17:38 EG: We got someone to fly a shuttle for us. We're getting there ASAP._

 _17:39 EG: Stay safe, okay?_

 _MESSAGE RECEIVED_


	11. Chapter 9: The Few and the Brave

_At the time, I had a bit of trouble on what to do regarding ME1's endgame on the Citadel. Fortunately, my brother, Silikin Tyth, suggested Eric and a couple people pulling off an improv rescue op, so that's that. Be sure to thank him for the idea!_

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: The Few and the Brave**

As the shuttle moved closer to the relay, many of the Alliance ships converged and made the jump, one after another.

Eric approached the cockpit and leaned forward in anticipation as Steve piloted the ship towards the relay. The others were in the back of the shuttle, some sitting down while others were standing about, weapons at the ready.

The shuttle was next to make the jump. In fact, it was the last to make it. An arc of lightning enveloped the tiny ship and it zipped from the Sol system to another area in the galaxy. They found themselves in the Horsehead Nebula, and Eric stared at the clash of clouds and dust. He smirked. That sight would never get old for him.

Cortez seemed to notice his reaction. "It's beautiful, you know. Wish Robert would've been here to see it."

"Sounds like you two are a perfect match. Why don't you, y'know, hang out with him?" Eric suggested.

Steve looked at Eric, a little surprised and a little confused. "You sure? I mean, well… I'm not so sure myself."

"Did you ask?"

"Haven't got the chance." There was a sad, wistful look in Cortez's eyes. He sighed. "Maybe. It sounds pretty crazy, though. Well, if he makes it through this…"

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," Eric said.

Cortez chuckled a little. "Guess you can say that. No harm, no foul, right?"

Eric nodded, and they turned their attention back to the front view. He smirked, if only a little. He couldn't believe it himself; he made the idea for Steve and his future husband, Robert, to be together. For lack of a better word, anyway. But all mirth faded from his face, his heart dropping like a bag of rocks. Cortez would lose Robert about two years from now at the hands of the Collectors. Would Cortez blame him for the idea in the first place, getting them together like that? Or would he say Eric wouldn't know, predict the future and all? He wouldn't exactly find comfort in either scenario.

The massive fleet was well ahead of them, barely visible to the naked eye. If the shuttle would get any closer, it would be detected by any of the Alliance's scanners. Eric had to admit, it was nerve-wracking, catching up to the fleet as they all quickly moved from one relay to the next.

It felt like hours had passed, but the fleet reached another relay and jumped through it, the shuttle following suit. Beyond the fleet, the dots in the pink cloud slowly became the flagship and the Citadel, its arms slowly opening. Among them were two fleets exchanging vast, rapid fire, one run by the geth, the other the turian vessels guarding the Destiny Ascension.

Ami's eyes lit up as she and the others gathered around Eric, all in awe at what they saw. The fleet had gathered behind one frigate.

"Is that the Normandy?" Garrett asked, looking at the frigate with awe.

"Yeah." Arthur had the same look on his face as Garrett's. "The Normandy's a prototype, with all the state-of-the-art tech and stuff. I mean, it was made by humans and turians, but… wow…"

The transmission cracked and pinged. "Alliance ships move in! Save the Destiny Ascension!" a man's voice, old and grainy, came out of one of the haptic interfaces.

"That's Admiral Hackett! So he's leading the fleet to the Citadel?" Ami asked.

"Sounds like it," Malek replied.

Eric let out a deep, relieved breath. _Looks like the Citadel had opened. Shepard did it. I knew she would._

Any sign of relief on his face soon faded as the Alliance fleet and the geth soon opened fire on each other—and they would be in the crossfire sure enough.

By the look on Cortez's face, he seemed to keep his cool as his arms moved about, going from one haptic interface to another. The shuttle swayed in random directions, somehow avoiding the gunfire. Despite everything spinning around outside the shuttle, Eric and the others didn't land on the ceiling when it happened. Eric had to remind himself that the shuttle, or any starship, had inertial dampeners for a good reason.

He looked back and saw some of his friends weren't taking it as well as he hoped. "Oh God, we're all gonna die here!" Arthur yelled out, his eyes filled with panic and distraught.

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up, man! We're not gonna die here, you hear?" Melek shot back. "Do we really need this right now!?"

The panic in Arthur's voice grew worse. "It's his fuckin' fault, y'know!" he cried out, pointing at Eric.

That pierced him like an arrow through his heart, and Cupid did not send it. A feeling of dread swept over him, and he stood there, not saying a word. He had brought his boyfriend and others to a situation where any one of them could die, either abruptly, horribly, or both. It wasn't a pleasant thing, taking responsibility for the lives of others. At that moment, Eric wished he hadn't brought them along. At least it would be him doing something stupid and suicidal.

Ignoring the increasing bickering among his comrades, Eric turned back to the front view. They were close to the Citadel, its arms now wide open as ships of all shapes and sizes swooped in, bringing the battle closer to home. A stray ship flew close by, smoke and fire trailing behind it. Eric's heart almost leaped out of his throat as Steve turned the shuttle away, dodging the spiraling ship like a fly against a wrapped-up newspaper.

"Dios!" Eric exclaimed. "How soon can we find something to land on?"

"We should be at a landing zone at C-Sec Headquarters! It's the closest one we got!" Steve answered, the urgency in his voice palpable.

A series of heavy grunts and thuds made Eric turn back around. What he didn't expect was Arthur coming at him, his arms stretched in front of him with hysteria in his now widened eyes. All the others came to pin him down as he was mere inches away from Eric's throat.

Startled, Eric stumbled back and bumped into the controls, surprising Steve. A look growing on his face like someone had received a lot of bad news at once. Frantically, he tried to get the shuttle to stabilize, his hands tapping on every spot of the interface.

Worse yet, the shuttle shook once again, this time violently. Alarms blared out of every system as the lights turned a harsh, hellish red. That could only mean one thing to him: something had hit the shuttle. But what hit it? Was it some geth ship getting a lucky hit? Stray shots from an Alliance vessel or some other ship?

Eric took deep breaths, in and out, in and out. That didn't stop his heart from beating so hard it became desperate enough to break free from his ribcage. No, he can't panic. Not yet. He had to stay calm. _Stay calm and it will be all right._

He peered out once more and saw Sovereign clinging onto a monolith at the center of the Citadel's inner ring. It raised one of its tentacles as a beam of hot-red plasma cut through several fighters engaging it like a hot knife through butter. Little remained of these ships. Maybe he should count himself lucky that Reaper didn't seem interested in them.

"This is going to be a rough landing! Hang on!" Cortez called out.

The shuttle swooped onto a hanger. The impact from the landing as it skirted along the edges, caused everyone besides the shuttle pilot to lose their balance. Eric had the worst of it. He stumbled in his steps and slipped.

Cortez was dazed for a second, having the wind knocked out of him. After a moment of sharp exhales, he turned around to the others. "Is everyone okay?" The concern in his voice was obvious.

Eric struggled to get up, using a nearby seat as support. "Yeah. I think so," he said between heavy breaths. "Didn't hear anything break on me. Garrett? You okay?"

Garrett looked unscathed aside from a shocked look on his face, rising up to his feet with no problem.

Eric let out a small smile, relieved to see his boyfriend on his feet. "Wow, okay. You're all right."

"You're one tough son of a bitch, I'll give you that," Bristol commented.

Everyone else seemed to turn out unscathed as well. Everyone else except for Arthur. The impact of the landing knocked him out cold, a dark bruise forming on his forehead.

"Oh no. Oooooh shit, this isn't good," Ami gasped, her anxious eyes widened as her hand covered her mouth.

Eric stood up. He had to stay calm, help the others. He had to for everyone's sake. "Does the shuttle have an ice pack or something?"

"Should be one in the medkit along with some medi-gel and other stuff." Cortez stood up from the pilot's seat and opened a red-and-white cabinet with a glowing red cross on a screen. It hissed, cold mist emerging, as it showed a bag of ice, thick as his wrist, along with other first aid equipment.

Eric approached Arthur's unconscious body and lifted one of his legs. Somehow, Arthur felt heavier than he looked. It must've been the armor, he told himself. "Hey, guys. Think you can help me out? He needs to lay on something comfortable."

Garrett, Vera, and Melek joined in and grabbed the rest of his arms and legs.

"Okay, ready?" Eric took a sharp intake. _Okay, remember your training, Eric, and you shouldn't screw up._ "One… two… three!"

Slowly and carefully, the four lifted him off the floor and carried him to the seats.

Garrett sat down next to Arthur's head and watched Eric catching the ice pack that Cortez had tossed. His lips curled. "Hey, how come you never told me you got first aid training?"

Eric looked up at his boyfriend with a cocked eyebrow. "Didn't I send you a message?" he asked, blinking in confusion. "I swear I did…"

It was then Cortez placed a medi-gel container along with a clear, full bottle of pills by the seat. "I'll see if I could find anyone outside."

Eric looked at Cortez with a nod. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea. You do that."

"I can help you with that," Bristol insisted, stepping in. "Worth looking for my folks."

"Same." Alban looked back at Ami, who had little trouble standing up. "Ami, wanna come?"

"Yeah," Ami answered.

Cortez, Ami, Alban, and Bristol gathered at the door as it parted open. When they left, Eric had knelt and pressed the ice pack gently against Arthur's forehead. It didn't take long for Arthur's eyebrows to start twitching as his eyes opened.

Arthur groaned and tried to sit up, only for a firm grip from Garrett to keep him down.

"Hey, take it easy, Arthur! You might have concussion, so try to lay down, okay?" Eric told Arthur.

Arthur groaned and placed his hand on the ice pack. Eric and Garrett stepped away from him, clear that Arthur had no intention of getting up. "Fuck my life," Arthur complained. "Fuck your life and fuck everyone else's."

Eric's nostrils flared out, and he did his best to resist the urge to smile at that crack of a joke. Thinking about it, Arthur had no idea how true he would make it out. Then again, if the end was indeed coming, then helping people should matter more than ever.

"How're you feeling right now?"

"Like I was in a pinball machine or something," Arthur replied, not looking at him.

Eric sighed. "Look, just… try not to fall asleep or move that much, okay?"

Arthur said nothing and made no sudden moves.

Exhaling a strong sigh of relief, Eric stood and moved to another seat. He flopped down on it and laid back, relaxing his posture. "Can you guys keep an eye on him? Y'know…" He waved his arm. "…make sure he's all right and stuff."

"You got it," Vera replied. "I have to say, I'm pretty surprised you have some first aid training. Didn't know you had it in ya."

"Neither did I, to be honest. Uh, what's the phrase? 'Don't knock it till you try it'?" Eric didn't see Vera's reaction, as he checked his omni-tool. No messages from Natalie or Luke. He was starting to get worried.

 _Where are you guys?_

The door opened, and Cortez and the others were accompanied by a middle-aged man who had a bright buzzcut that complemented his square jawed face quite well. He was wearing a C-Sec uniform.

"Hey. Is everyone all right?" the officer asked. There was a twang to his voice if Eric could call it that. Something clicked in his mind, and he realized it was that one guy at the Zakera Ward whom Shepard met in _2_ and _3_. What was his name again? It had been a while since…

"Everyone except one," said Cortez. "He might a concussion. Eric did the best he could, but he needs further medical treatment as soon as possible."

"Okay. We'll make sure to bring him to a hospital ASAP. Alban here told me about Eric Grimes."

"That's me." Eric stood up. "Who are you?"

"Sergeant Bailey. So you're the one who brought them all here, then?"

"Yeah," Eric replied. _He was a sergeant back then?_ "I… came up with the idea to be here. We're all here to help."

"Uh-huh. So you are." The sergeant crossed his arms and focused his gaze on Eric. "Explains why you had brought a bunch of guns here. And that big fella with you." He directed his head toward Garrett.

Garrett took a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowing upwards. He could only hope for the best. "Look, we're not here to kill any geth. We're here to find our friends and relatives. Do you know Natalie Clay? Is she okay?"

"Natalie, huh?" Bailey replied. He curled his lips for a second before nodding once. "Yeah, I know her. We've met a couple of times while off duty. Smart woman. Last I checked, she opted to stay behind while her husband and kids went on vacation."

Eric almost exhaled in relief, but he couldn't help but wonder. _Why wasn't I told about this?_ "Oh, okay! Where is she? Is she all right?"

"One second. Gotta take care of your friend here first." Bailey knelt beside Arthur. "Son, I need you to look at this." His omni-tool emitted a flashlight and focused it on Arthur's eyes.

Arthur obeyed and looked back at the captain, his eyes still groggy. "Right, look here." Arthur's eyes followed as he moved it to another spot in his peripheral vision. "And here." The process repeated several times before Bailey turned off the light with a nod. "All right. His eyes are dilating, and he seems to follow instructions pretty well," he said as he approached the rest of the team and placed two of his fingers on his earpiece. "Hey, I got someone with a concussion here. Human, male, wears an Alliance standard armor. Best send him to a hospital, you hear?" After getting a response that Eric and the others didn't hear, Bailey lowered his hand. "They'll come around, don't worry."

Eric nodded. "Good to hear. So, about Natalie…"

"She's right as rain if you're worried about her. Busy, though, coordinating rescue efforts in the Zakera Ward," Bailey shrugged. "Anyway, we'll take any help we can get. And I'll bet Natalie will be glad to see you. I'm sure we can find something for you to do. I just hope your superiors wouldn't be angry at all of you for this."

"Pretty sure they'll court-martial us for desertion," Garrett quipped.

"One could only hope," Bailey replied sarcastically.

Just moments after they all left, Eric saw two more C-Sec officers, one an asari and the other a male turian, entered the crashed shuttle with a stretcher in hand. A few moments later, they emerged with Arthur laying on the stretcher. His gaze followed the officers as they passed by, and Arthur gave one look at Eric and gave him a weak, shaky thumbs-up before laying back down. That gave Eric some reassurance, that he didn't screw this up and everyone would be alright. He would tell himself that this played out despite some bad luck.

His omni-tool pinged, and his heart skipped a beat. He turned his device on to find a notification on the display. It was a message, a reply from Natalie. He opened his private message thread.

 _NC: [LOGIN][ONLINE]_

 _18:15 NC: I'm safe, Eric. Thank you for checking in on me. :)_

 _Hopefully, the rest of it wouldn't be as messy as this,_ he thought to himself with a smile.

* * *

Eric knew what he signed up for. He knew they were here to help. He knew that the most they can do would be long and tedious, but someone had to do it.

Luke and Natalie, as well as their daughters, were fine thankfully. However, he couldn't say the same for the others, except for his boyfriend. Garrett's mother was off-world. Ami's father survived when C-Sec found him, but her mother didn't. For Alban, not all his friends made it, as some were victims of those dragon's teeth the geth used to make husks. And everyone at C-Sec was still searching for Vera's family.

All these revelations had hit Eric like a bag of rocks as he read through the casualty list on his omni-tool. If they had been here a moment sooner if they haven't screwed up when entering the Citadel…

He stopped himself for a second but snapped back into action when Garrett placed his hand on Eric's shoulder.

"C'mon, let's go," he said and walked off.

Eric agreed, silently, and nodded as he turned his omni-tool off. They were assigned in pairs, with Eric and Garrett being one sent to the Presidium.

The Presidium would have looked beautiful before the geth invaded, filled with lush trees, vibrant grass, and lakes filled with fresh water. Instead, that beauty was marred by rubble and crumbled buildings. Eric remembered the fountains spewing out of the lake back when he was at the hospital. He hoped they would start working again once this was all over.

This would be the third building they would evaluate. Their role was simple: find any survivors and bring them to safety. This one was a convenience store, the display somehow still intact from the battle, showing the word _RITE-O_ in bold, fancy letters.

It seemed simple enough, but why did Eric's stomach tie in knots? He watched disaster and zombie movies as well as shows, and if they were of any indication, convenience stores were often the destination people loot in the aftermath of a disaster.

The two approached the entrance, a green light emitting next to the door. The door slid open and the two stepped inside to a room about half as large as a lobby at an office building. Rows and rows of shelves were filled with snacks and small electronics. Some of them were empty, and random objects and decorations were discarded all over the floor. The store was dimly-lit, supported only by the radiance of a terminal on a desk at the back.

Eric hoped he and Garrett wouldn't face any looters here, but the sounds of objects clanging as they fell from their shelves as well as the shape of a hooded, humanoid figure hunching over by the terminal told him otherwise. Then again, he should consider himself lucky they didn't see any of these "dragon's teeth".

He froze in his steps, his legs like jelly. He was obviously trained to fight people, albeit with tech, but he certainly wasn't expecting it to happen so soon, if at all. A shot rang out, and he saw a blue ripple surrounding him. He had to thank God for that; it was a good thing he had his shields up in cases like this. Garrett grabbed him by the torso and leaped behind a shelf closest to them, the second shot ricocheting off the wall behind them.

Eric cursed in Spanish, crouching behind the shelf.

"Wasn't expecting these guys!" Garrett replied, also crouching with his assault rifle out and in his hands. "How many are there?"

With a sharp intake, Eric poked his head out and took a moment to scan the area with squinted eyes. There was one at the terminal, still hooded but very much human going by the looks of his facial structure. The other two were also human, both armed with guns while the one by the freezers had a bag in his left hand.

He ducked back down, dodging another round. His heart must have been racing like crazy. "Three," he answered. "I only saw three. Maybe more, I don't know."

"Ah, shit." Garrett sighed and tapped his earpiece. "Hey, Bailey. We got a couple robbers at an abandoned RITE-O in the Presidium. And they're armed. Think you can give us backup?"

"I'll send a couple of my men to your location," Bailey answered through both Eric's and Garrett's earpieces.

"Great! We'll hold as much as we—" Garrett didn't get to say another word when a round pierced through the shelf, making a hole as large as a quarter between him and Eric. Eric yelped in surprise, and Garrett leaped up to his feet and fired at the looters.

The two looters ducked just in time, the gunfire meeting with one of the freezers. The bottles and cartons inside ruptured as the glass door shattered into a million pieces.

"Damn! You guys still with me?" one of the looters asked, hiding behind another shelf.

"I'm fine. It didn't graze me," the other grunted, now prone on the floor.

The looter at the terminal jumped over the desk, pistol in hand, and fired a couple shots at Garrett. Even if one of them managed to hit him, it only affected his shields. The rest did not hit him in the slightest.

Eric's hands shook, even as he turned on his omni-tool and navigated through the commands with a swipe of his finger. He stood up and launched a mine, which landed by the desk and in between the three looters. Before any of them react, the mine detonated, sending out an orange pulse that engulfed them and lingered on their guns. The terminal's screen flickered and shimmered in reaction to the pulse.

The prone looter stood up and squeezed the trigger on his pistol multiple times. Instead of a metal slug coming out of the barrel, heat came out of the pistol's side. The same result happened with the others since their pistols had overheated.

"Oh, what the fuck?" the looter by the freezer exclaimed.

It was then Eric stood up and faced against the looters. Garrett tried to protest but he ignored him. "Okay, that's enough!" he hissed through panicked breaths. "Everyone, just stop and listen, all right?"

The one by the terminal exchanged looks with the others. "What do you think?"

The other turned his gaze toward another door at the back by the desk, as revealed by the flickering light of the terminal. "Yeah."

"Look, whatever you're thinking, it's not gonna end well for you!" Eric called out. He had to put up a brave face. "Kill us or run away, you're all criminals either way. Um, if you give up now—"

Before Eric or Garrett would react, the three looters jumped up to their feet and made a beeline for the door. One of them nearly slipped on his feet as he stepped over spilled juice.

"H-hey!" Eric called out. "Get back here!"

Garrett sighed as he rolled his eyes. "For fuck's sake." He popped out of the shelves and dashed past Eric. The stock of his rifle pressed against his shoulder, he made a burst of gunfire at each of their oppositions' legs. He didn't get two of them as they went through the back door, but he did get the third one. The unlucky looter cried out in pain as he fell forward, his face meeting the floor with a thud.

Looking at the looter's mangled leg made Eric cringe as he and Garrett had caught up to him. Seeing his leg all mangled up like hamburger meat after rolling up the man's pants did not prepare him for this, even after seeing gruesome pictures of injuries, of which he had to use the restroom to throw up. The queasy feeling in his stomach did not help him one bit.

They turned over the looter and unmasked him. His fair-skinned, chiseled face was ruined by introducing himself to the floor, as evidenced by his now-squeezed, bloodied nose.

"Fuck you," he groaned.

"To be fair, you kinda brought this on yourself, man," Garrett replied.

Eric glared at his boyfriend with daggers in his eyes, which Garrett responded with laughter. "What? Thought my charming wit would cheer you up."

Eric said nothing and grabbed a tourniquet out of a duffle bag he carried at his side. He applied some medi-gel to the looter's legs, closing and disinfecting the wound, and gave him a dose of painkillers. The man rolled his eyes back a little as he let out a long sigh. His face was still pail from the shock and the blood loss. He was surprised the looter did not protest in the slightest, but he was glad he went along. All that was left was mending the bone.

Eric wrapped the tourniquet around the looter's leg and, with an uncomfortable look on his face, looked at the looter's face. He hoped he did this correctly. "Okay. I've done all I can, but this is still gonna hurt," he warned. "You ready?

That moment of deliberation from the looter felt long, but he answered with a series of weak nods. Eric inhaled, then exhaled. He didn't take a full-on course in medical training, but no one else was around to treat his wounds.

Eric tightened the tourniquet. The looter let out this weird, painful moan. "Garrett, I need help here," he called out.

Garrett was about to protest but said nothing and knelt beside him, holding down their assailant's leg to stop it from moving. And with that, it was done as Eric finished wrapping the tourniquet. The looter relaxed his position as his breathed slowed. Eric had done all he could. Now the rest would be up to the responders to come and pick the criminal up for further medical treatment.

Garrett stood up and departed, Eric at his heels. Garrett's eyes widened in elation, and Eric had to admit he would feel the same in his position. "I still can't believe you pulled this off, man."

Eric shrugged. "Thought I would do some decryption, hacking, and stuff, but first-aid? Never thought I would pull that off, to be honest."

Both of their earpieces pinged. "Ami here. They've found out about your plan, Eric."

Eric breathed heavily before pressing his earpiece. "Who are they?" He already knew the answer before he uttered his breath. He knew this would come to this point one way or another, but he certainly wasn't looking forward to it. Not one bit.

"Alliance brass. You two better hurry. They're already mad at us as it is. I'm sorry."

"It's…" Eric sighed, his heart sinking like a bag of rocks underwater. "It's my fault for coming up with this stupid idea." He paused for a moment, not sure of what to say next.

"Gotcha. We'll be on our way ASAP," Garrett replied to Ami.

Their earpieces pinged again, and the line ended. As this was happening, two C-Sec officers, a turian and a human, both male, had entered the convenience store.

As the human officer went to the fallen assailant and brought him up to his feet, the turian with purple tattoos marked on his face stopped and focused his gaze on Eric and Garrett. "Weren't there supposed to be three?"

"Yeah. You might want to keep an eye out for 'em," Garrett answered. "It was Eric's idea here." He pointed his thumb at Eric. Eric shot a look at his boyfriend, his eyes filled with awe. It was nice of Garrett to give him some positive credit for once. "They have some guns, only pistols, and he overheated them, then I shot one of 'em in the leg. We then patched 'im up. Just be gentle with the fella, 'kay?"

The turian nodded. "We'll take it from here. And thanks for holding out."

The human officer, with the looter in cuffs, had caught up to his turian partner. They said nothing else as they left the store, their captive limping and groaning all the while.

Garrett took a step forward and, as Eric tried to speak out to the officers just before they left, dragged him into a gentle hug from behind. Eric blushed, his cheeks turning rose-red. He had to admit, it was nice. Really nice, in fact.

"Don't worry, man. Likely, they'll just transfer us all to some boring outpost in the middle of ass-end nowhere." Garrett mumbled against the back of his neck.

"But what will happen to us? What if they separate us?" Eric asked.

"We'll just leave it up to luck, yeah."

"I hope so," Eric nodded. "And, well, I love you."

"Love ya, too."

It was then Eric turned around and his lips had pressed against Garrett's. The kiss was always the one he was looking forward to.


End file.
